


milky way

by vonseal



Series: out of this world [4]
Category: ASTRO (Band)
Genre: Aliens, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Aliens, Cute, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Other Characters - Freeform, Romance, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:28:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 37,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23538367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vonseal/pseuds/vonseal
Summary: jinwoo never expected his true love would be an alien and yet he managed to score the cutest alien of them all.
Relationships: Kim Myungjun | MJ/Park Jinwoo | Jin Jin, Lee Dongmin | Cha Eunwoo/Moon Bin, Park Minhyuk | Rocky/Yoon Sanha
Series: out of this world [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/996240
Comments: 69
Kudos: 148





	1. the cutest earthling

**Author's Note:**

> and so i return with a new chaptered alien fic! out of this world was released almost three years ago (whoa wtf) and is one of my most popular fics. hopefully this will manage to warm the hearts of all those who have been eagerly awaiting the return of alien mj and his cute earthling bf jinwoo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and so i return with a new chaptered alien fic! out of this world was released almost three years ago (whoa wtf) and is one of my most popular fics. hopefully this will manage to warm the hearts of all those who have been eagerly awaiting the return of alien mj and his cute earthling bf jinwoo.

It was getting colder outside. Jinwoo sidestepped a pile of snow that had been shoveled onto the sidewalk and shivered as he buried his nose further down into the heavy scarf laying across his neck. Winter was definitely in full force, and all he could do for relief was bundle up.

Myungjun didn’t mind the weather at all. Even if it was freezing, Myungjun was so happy that it had snowed. The spring was fine and summer was good and the pretty colors of fall made him excited, but his excitement was tenfold when the first snow of the year began to fall. Jinwoo always wished he could be as satisfied with the cold weather as Myungjun was.

Instead, though, he shuddered again and hurried along his way. The cafe was just ahead in the shopping vicinity, the lights on the outside turned off to indicate it was closed.

Jinwoo rushed up to the door and knocked a few times. He could see through the glass; Myungjun’s face lit up and he ran around the counter in order to unlock the door and usher Jinwoo inside.

Once the door was shut again, Myungjun gave Jinwoo a kiss, then giggled against his lips. “You’re cold!” Myungjun pointed out. His eyes twinkled with mirth and love, and Jinwoo couldn’t help but smile at him.

Their relationship was a little over a year old. Dongmin had long since claimed that their honeymoon period would only last for the first few months, and yet it continued. It hadn’t ceased, and that was due mainly to Myungjun.

Myungjun treated every date as if it was a first date. He treated every gesture as if it was something extravagant and fantastic. He proclaimed his love for Jinwoo every single day, without fail, and retained that new-couple romance that Jinwoo had only ever seen before in dramas and television shows.

Myungjun made their relationship so very special, and Jinwoo was never going to let him go.

“It’s freezing out there,” Jinwoo pointed out, and he ruffled Myungjun’s hair. “I’m going to call us a cab to get home; I don’t want to freeze.”

“I brought my scarf, though,” Myungjun said, gesturing to his outerwear that he had stashed behind the counter. “And my hat and gloves and coat. I think I will be fine.”

Jinwoo debated walking home in the cold and the snow. He knew he would be shivering again by the time they reached the apartment. He knew Myungjun would be, too. Still, Myungjun  _ liked _ walking out in the snow. He liked taking pictures and frolicking and he liked  _ winter _ .

Jinwoo relented easily, even without Myungjun arguing too much. He always relented.

“We’ll walk,” he said, and Myungjun let out a small  _ whoop! _ Letting his boyfriend celebrate for the time being, Jinwoo peeked around the counter. “Dongmin!” he called out. “Junnie and I are going to leave!”

Dongmin came from his office. He wore glasses and looked exhausted, but he greeted Jinwoo nonetheless. “How were your classes?” he asked. “What did you have today?”

“Calculus,” Jinwoo responded. “And a physics class, and a lab for a different physics class.”

“I really don’t know how you switched from a theater degree to  _ astrophysics _ . You’re insane.”

“I am,” Jinwoo agreed. He glanced over at Myungjun who offered him a smile. “But it’d be nice to learn more about space, anyway.”

“I can teach you some about space,” Myungjun stated as he put on his coat. “Especially about my planet. Anything you want to know about my planet, I can teach you.”

Jinwoo sighed and helped Myungjun with the buttons on his coat. “I wish,” he muttered. “You’re a much better teacher than my professors are. But the stuff I’m learning about is...it’s mostly equations, Jun. Very boring.”

“Space isn’t boring,” Myungjun defended. He wrapped the scarf around his neck, then stuffed the beanie onto his head. “There are lots of cool planets out there. Lots of other aliens.”

“But you need to remember, only a few of us know that you are an alien,” Jinwoo replied. He kissed Myungjun’s cheek, then passed over his gloves. “So we aren’t learning about aliens. We’re learning about distance and mass and boring stuff.”

Myungjun seemed almost offended. Once his gloves covered his hands, he said, “There’s more to space than...than equations.”

“Yes, but that’s what I will learn as I continue my studies.” Jinwoo yawned, then hooked arms with Myungjun. “Let’s go home. I still have some work to do before we go to sleep.”

Myungjun brightened, as if Jinwoo never implied space was boring. “Oh, me, too!” he exclaimed, and then he grinned widely at Dongmin. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning! I’ll buy some more milk on my way in, don’t worry!”

Dongmin pursed his lips, hiding a smile, but otherwise wished them both good night. As they left the cafe, Jinwoo asked, “Did you drink all the leftover milk again?”

Myungjun shushed him and tugged him along the sidewalk. “It was too tempting, and I was thirsty. I made sure no one else was going to drink it before I took it.”

Jinwoo laughed. Ever since Dongmin hired Myungjun to work at the cafe, milk went missing. At first, scared of punishment, Myungjun would lie and say he spilled it all, or else customers kept wanting more milk in their coffee. Then, apparently, Dongmin caught him drinking all of the leftover milk, and from then they had to keep extra on hand.

Sometimes, though, Myungjun would drink the extra. This seemed to be one of those times.

“You should drink water more often than milk,” Jinwoo stated, drawing Myungjun close to him for warmth. “Water is better for you anyway.”

“It’s not as tasty.”

“Of course not, but it’s still better for you. If you drink too much milk, you might become allergic.”

Myungjun narrowed his eyes in disbelief. “You’re allergic to cats, you said, but you never drank too many cats.”

“You don’t drink cats, Myungjun, that’s why.”

His words were confusing to Myungjun. The poor alien whined and asked, “Then how come you’re allergic to cats?”

“I don’t know. I guess I was born like that.”

Myungjun gave a huff. “Then I was born unallergic to milk. That’s how it works, right?”

Jinwoo didn’t want to get into the sciences behind allergies. He didn’t care enough to. Myungjun enjoyed milk and  _ wasn’t _ allergic, and Jinwoo saw no reason to force Myungjun’s weird milk addiction to come to an end. Perhaps it would end on its own, anyway.

But if it was anything like their honeymoon period, then it wouldn’t.

Wanting to draw a new topic of conversation, Jinwoo asked, “Did anything interesting happen today? Other than drinking milk?”

Myungjun appeared thoughtful. He shivered in Jinwoo’s arms, but made no move to slow down or ask for a cab. “One of my regulars bought me a cake! I gave it to Dongmin. I can’t eat it.”

Myungjun was still becoming accustomed to overly sweet, dense foods. Frostings made him ill, as did anything with too much sugar. Jinwoo tried not to keep many sweets in his apartment so Myungjun wouldn’t be tempted.

“But she was nice,” Myungjun continued. “She said I deserved it for being a kind, young man.” He gasped suddenly and tugged Jinwoo’s arm. “I should’ve given it to you! You’re more kind than I am!”

Jinwoo shook his head. “It’s fine. Dongmin will take it home to Bin, and Bin will devour it all in five seconds.”

Myungjun didn’t dispute that statement. Though he had only been on Earth for a year, he was at least aware of the habits of Jinwoo’s closest friends. He knew that Bin liked to eat and sleep. He knew that Sanha was in love with Minhyuk. He knew that Minhyuk was in love with himself. And he knew that Dongmin sat on a nail in high school and didn’t find it until he showered that night.

“What else happened?” Myungjun mumbled to himself, dipping deep into his recent memories to figure out. “Oh, I got a number from another girl. She’s been coming by recently and she gave it to me.” Myungjun patted his jeans pocket. “I have it in here.”

That had happened a few times before. Myungjun was handsome and sweet and cheerful; girls were drawn to his vibrant personality, and he accepted each of their numbers or confessions without fail.

“What did you tell her? Did you tell her that you’re dating a dashing, young Earthling?”

“The cutest Earthling!” Myungjun exclaimed, and he kissed Jinwoo’s nose. “I told her I would cherish her number!”

Jinwoo sighed. “You’re leading them on.”

“Am I?”

Jinwoo pointed at Myungjun’s pocket. “By accepting their phone numbers, you’re letting them think you have a chance. Do you ever call or text them?”

Myungjun blinked, as if it just dawned on him that he was supposed to do something more with the crumbled up phone numbers. “No.”

“They’re expecting calls from you, Junnie. That’s why they gave you their number.”

Myungjun’s eyes widened. He dug his gloved hand into his pocket and tugged the numbers free from their denim cage. “Should I call her?” he questioned, frantic. “I feel bad—”

“No, no, she...she wants to date you. And you can’t call back, because then she’ll expect you to date her, and you’re dating  _ me! _ ” Jinwoo plastered himself close to Myungjun and frowned, putting on a faux pout. “I don’t want you flirting with girls.”

Myungjun shook his head. “I won’t,” he swore, and he kissed Jinwoo’s cheek. “I remember how bad it felt when you were dating that other man. I would never,  _ ever _ do that to you, I promise. I’m only going to date you forever.”

_ Forever _ . It sounded like such a wonderful time length. Forever with Myungjun by his side. Forever in this phase that Dongmin had stated wouldn’t last but for a few months. He liked the word  _ forever _ when it was applied to his relationship with Myungjun.

He smiled over at Myungjun, who grinned right back at him. “Forever is perfect,” Jinwoo responded. “I’d love to be with you forever.”

He could detect a pink blush rising to Myungjun’s cheeks; whether from the cold or from embarrassment, it was cute. Jinwoo liked it when Myungjun was a little bit flustered. It made his heart swell up with adoration and affection, and this time was no different.

Myungjun ducked his head and giggled. “I’m cold,” he murmured.

So it  _ was _ embarrassment, or else Myungjun wouldn’t be hiding his face.

“You’re embarrassed.”

“Am  _ not _ .”

“You’re  _ so _ embarrassed, aren’t you?”

“ _ No! _ I’m never embarrassed. I don’t even know what embarrassment feels like because I’ve never, ever been embarrassed!”

It was a lie, but it wasn’t one that Jinwoo was willing to fight. He knew Myungjun well enough to understand the differing emotions, and he knew that Myungjun was definitely embarrassed. All he did was laugh and pull Myungjun away from a slushy patch of snow he was about to step into.

“Right,” he said. “Let’s get home quickly, so you are no longer cold and so I can get some homework finished. And  _ you _ have work to do, too, don’t you?”

Myungjun nodded, finally picking his head up to look over at Jinwoo. “Learning how to read your language,” he stated. “I’m getting better at it. I was able to write Sanha’s name today.”

“That’s great!” Jinwoo exclaimed, and it really was. Myungjun had been practicing how to write and read Korean for quite some time. It was a bit difficult for him to pick up, but he was practicing hard and learning a lot.

(Jinwoo had originally wondered how Myungjun was able to speak and understand Korean, yet he could not read or write it.

“Translator,” Myungjun had stated, tapping his head and smiling, but nothing more was explained.)

They crossed a street, and Jinwoo asked, “But my name was the one you were able to write first, correct?”

“Of course,” Myungjun replied, as if the answer was obvious. “I wouldn’t start out by writing anyone’s name but your own, silly.”

It was sometimes hard to comprehend how much Myungjun loved him. No one else would ever treat him so sweetly. No one else would ever treat him so kindly.

They made it back to the apartment after a short walk. Though it hadn’t taken very long, Jinwoo still felt like the cold had seeped through his clothes and latched onto his bones. He shivered and made sure his heat was turned up. Even if it would cost him more money, he would gladly pay it. And if he couldn’t, Myungjun always liked to chip in.

They took off their outerwear. Myungjun was quick to dispose of his and then he moved on to help Jinwoo.

He always liked unbuttoning Jinwoo’s coats, so he said. He liked being helpful — he liked helping  _ Jinwoo _ .

“You look so cute in your cold clothing,” Myungjun mentioned once Jinwoo’s coat was removed.

“You look cuter,” Jinwoo countered, leaning in to plant a kiss upon Myungjun’s cold nose. “I’m hardly able to keep my hands off you when you’re all bundled up.”

Myungjun laughed. He grabbed onto Jinwoo’s hands, holding them tightly, and said, “You can’t put hands on me right now because you have to do schoolwork!”

It was true, as unfortunate as that was. The massive amount of homework was waiting for Jinwoo. Deadlines loomed over him like monsters under his bed, and equations flitted about in his head, begging him to memorize them. He had no time to play around with Myungjun.

“Right,” he sighed, and Myungjun released his hands.

“If you need any help, you can let me know,” Myungjun offered, as he always offered. “I know about space, since I have traveled all throughout space. I forgot how long of a journey it was.”

Jinwoo had asked Myungjun before, but Myungjun did not understand the complexities of physics, nor did he understand why knowing such was necessary. Now, though, he had a new question.

“You drove a spaceship, though. How did you know what you needed to do to drive it?”

Myungjun pulled his Korean language book from the bookshelf and pursed his lips in thought. “I...I was taught about the ships,” he said. “I was a good worker, and so the man who oversaw the workers allowed me to come on board the ship. I listened to what they said and I studied the controls, and then I knew how to fly a ship.”

Jinwoo was impressed. “You learned how to fly based off listening to people talk?”

“There wasn’t much else to do for fun,” Myungjun responded. “So I listened, and when they said something pertaining to the ship, I kept it in my memory. Even while I worked, I kept thinking of how I would fly the ship.”

“So you had it in your mind, then, that you would soon fly away?”

Myungjun flipped through the pages in his Korean book, finding what he last left off on, then he shrugged. “I...I don’t really know.” He looked up at Jinwoo and smiled apologetically. Jinwoo could see the confusion in his gaze and he realized Myungjun likely had no idea why his subconscious had attached itself to the idea of stealing a ship. “It seemed important at the time.” He sighed, then shook his head, as if dispelling the confusing thoughts. “I think I was just so miserable on that planet and I wanted to escape.”

Jinwoo never wanted to pry. He had a difficult life, and prying before had caused Myungjun to become withdrawn and silent. Sometimes Jinwoo wondered if Myungjun truly understood all that had happened on Planet Seven. He was still learning the names of various emotions he experienced. He was still learning that life could be  _ good _ . Perhaps, then, he didn’t understand all the horror and fear he had felt while living out in space on that alien planet.

Jinwoo didn’t want him to relive awful experiences.

“I’m glad you escaped,” Jinwoo told him, booting up his laptop and placing his massive textbooks onto their kitchen table. “Because now you’re here with me, and I’m the happiest I’ve ever been.”

Myungjun smiled brightly, previous transgressions forgotten. “Me, too!” he exclaimed. He pointed down at the page he had landed on in his Korean language book and said, “And I will continue my studies so that way I can write your language and soon become happier.”

Jinwoo watched him for a few seconds. When Myungjun worked, he worked hard. He never tried to take any shortcuts and he never grumbled or complained about the length of time it was taking for him to learn basic concepts. It was impressive, and Jinwoo couldn’t help but smile fondly upon his boyfriend.

Myungjun seemed to notice. He was intuitive; he could always feel when someone was looking at him, and this case was no different. He glanced up at Jinwoo and returned his smile. “What?”

“Nothing,” Jinwoo said. “I’m just admiring how handsome my boyfriend is.”

With a small giggle, Myungjun leaned over to tap on Jinwoo’s laptop. “Get to work,” he ordered. “I want to make sure we both get to sleep on time. Sleep is important, you know.”

“I know.”

And so Jinwoo began to work, prompted by Myungjun. Physics was hard, but whenever he groaned in frustration, Myungjun would lean over to kiss his cheek. It was the encouragement Jinwoo needed to continue his schoolwork, and it boosted his mood considerably.

They finished close to midnight. Myungjun’s eyelids were drooping by the time Jinwoo closed his textbook. He was struggling to continue his lesson, every word he wrote punctuated with yawns.

“I’m done,” Jinwoo announced, standing from his seat. “It’s late, but we still have six hours of sleep.”

Myungjun nodded his head and set his own textbook aside. He grabbed Jinwoo’s hand as he stood up, plastering himself close, and mumbled, “I’m sleepy.”

“I know. I can tell.”

“I could sleep for a whole  _ day _ .”

“If you need to do that, I can let Dongmin know.”

Myungjun didn’t like that idea, if the face he made was any indication. He  _ liked _ to work. He enjoyed making coffee and pastries and talking to the customers. It was an experience for him, an experience he enjoyed, and he only took off days if he had planned the absence out weeks in advance. Skipping a day just to sleep wasn’t something he would ever do.

“Alright, then, I’ll wake you up so you can shower and get ready,” Jinwoo promised. They made it to Jinwoo’s bedroom and Myungjun instantly began to change into his pajamas.

He looked so warm when he was fully dressed. He wore soft pants and a long-sleeved shirt and wrapped himself up in an extra blanket before he fell onto the bed.

He looked  _ perfect _ .

Jinwoo laid down beside him and curled closely into him.

“Myungjun?”

“Hm?”

“I love you, my sweet alien.”

Myungjun kissed Jinwoo’s nose, and murmured back, “I love you, my sweet Earthling.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> big thanks to [emma](https://twitter.com/wenningsexy_) for all the help on this fic! and by help i mean she's ghost writing it.
> 
> hit me up on my twitter page [@vonseal](https://twitter.com/thevonseal) for spoilers and general nonsense.


	2. one sleepy alien (and jinwoo)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so begins chapter two!

Though they often went to bed late, Jinwoo never had any trouble sleeping through the night. He was always exhausted with the difficulties of his classes, and should he also have to split classes between work, he was doubly tired. Sleep was welcomed in his tiny apartment. Myungjun liked to sleep, and  _ he  _ liked to sleep.

It struck him as weird, then, when he awoke that morning to the sky outside still dark and his clock showing  _ 2:36AM _ .

He blinked groggily and rolled onto his back, wondering what woke him up.

Beside him, Myungjun shifted.

Beside him, Myungjun sniffled.

It took his tired mind a few seconds to process the sounds Myungjun was making, but he soon sat up in worry and concern. “Jun?” he whispered, shaking his boyfriend gently. “Junnie, are you crying?”

Myungjun shook his head. “N-No,” he responded, but it was clear he was not telling the truth.

Jinwoo leaned over to turn on the lamp beside his table. The room was dim, illuminated by a cheap lightbulb Jinwoo always hated but was forced to buy to save on money. Still, it was enough to allow him to look over at Myungjun, who was covering his face in his pillow and trying his best to stifle sniffles and sobs.

“Hey,” Jinwoo murmured, running his fingers through Myungjun’s hair. “Why are you crying?”

Myungjun shook underneath Jinwoo’s touches, but he said nothing in response.

Myungjun didn’t cry much. He was generally happy with the way things had turned out, with the way his life had turned out. In fact, he only cried when he was extremely happy, or else when he was physically hurt. He never cried in the middle of the night.

Jinwoo rubbed a hand up and down Myungjun’s back and asked, “Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

Finally, Myungjun glanced up. He looked miserable, and Jinwoo’s heart ached for him. “Junnie—”

“I-I had a bad dream,” Myungjun stammered out. He rubbed at his face and added, “I think it...it was a memory?”

He sounded confused. He sounded unsure. Jinwoo watched him struggle to swallow his sobs down and stop his tears. “Are you sure it was a memory?” Jinwoo asked him.

Myungjun’s eyebrows furrowed and he shook his head. “No,” he choked out. “But it seemed li-like one. I don’t...I don’t know what it was, Jinnie.”

Jinwoo leaned over and planted a kiss onto Myungjun’s forehead. His lips lingered, and Myungjun molded into his touch, clinging to him as if he was a lifeline. “Do you want to talk about it?” Jinwoo asked.

Myungjun sniffled again. “Does...does that help?”

“Sometimes it does. It always helps me to talk things through. It might help you.”

“Oh.” Myungjun curled into Jinwoo and murmured, “It was...it was back on Planet Seven. I knew it was Planet Seven, for it was nothing like Earth. It wasn’t pretty or green. It was brown and...horrible.”

He took a deep, shuddering breath and squeezed his eyes shut. “There was...there was someone I really liked. Maybe it was you? I don’t remember his face. It was a boy, though, and he was someone I loved. I love you. It must have been you.”

“It was just a dream then. It was a nightmare.”

Myungjun blinked open his eyes and looked up at Jinwoo. “A nightmare?”

Jinwoo nodded his head. “You’ve had good dreams before you have told me about, right? A nightmare is a bad dream.”

“Do...do Earthlings have nightmares? Do  _ you _ have nightmares?”

“I have nightmares sometimes, yes. Lots of Earthlings do.” Jinwoo wiped away some of Myungjun’s tears and smiled softly. “It happens sometimes. And I suppose, since you’ve had bad memories, it’s happening to you.”

Myungjun looked away, down at the blankets, and admitted, “I didn’t like the bad dream. You died.”

Jinwoo couldn’t imagine  _ Myungjun _ dying in  _ his _ dream. He knew he would likely wake up in tears, too, and if this was Myungjun’s first nightmare then no wonder he was upset. “But I’m not dead. It’s okay.”

Myungjun didn’t appear to be comforted by Jinwoo’s words. “My dreams so far have not been realistic,” he commented, “but this one  _ was _ .”

“Sometimes bad dreams can seem so...so real.”

“They killed you because you fell ill,” Myungjun murmured. “They forced you into the mines and you couldn’t work. They started to beat you. Right in front of me. They beat you until you died. It…” He covered his mouth and trembled. Fresh tears sprung to his eyes and Jinwoo was quick to wrap him up in a hug. “J-Jinwoo! It wa-was  _ horrible! _ ”

Jinwoo felt sick to his stomach thinking about the dream. Myungjun had said it was realistic. Did that happen? Did Myungjun have to watch other aliens get beaten to death?

“Myungjun, was that...was that normal on Planet Seven?”

Myungjun nodded, and Jinwoo’s blood ran cold. 

He knew people had died. He knew Myungjun could’ve died at any moment if he became useless to the rest of society. However, Myungjun had never gone into detail on  _ how _ the inhabitants would die. The thought of sick aliens beaten to death in front of possible friends and family was horrifying.

“You’re not there anymore,” Jinwoo reassured him, placing a kiss on the top of Myungjun’s messy bedhead. “You’re safe here, alright? I’m going to protect you here.”

Myungjun nodded his head as if he understood, but that didn’t stop his tears. He cried louder, and managed to say, “Why-Why did you  _ die _ in my-my dream? Jin-Jinwoo, I don’t want you to die!”

“I won’t die. I promise. Look, we’re on Earth. Planet Seven is in the past, okay?” Myungjun nodded again, and so Jinwoo continued, “And whatever happened there is only a bad dream now. It doesn’t happen here. It won’t happen to you anymore. You won’t see anyone else die, Jun. I promise. Do you believe me?”

Myungjun choked out, “I-I-I believe you.”

He cried still. He buried his head into Jinwoo’s chest and cried for a while. He couldn’t sleep anymore; each time he closed his eyes, he jolted in Jinwoo’s grasp and held onto him, stammering, “Do-Don’t leave me, please, I don’t wa-want to see you die in my dreams again!”

By the time the sun rose, Jinwoo had very little sleep and wasn’t sure if it would be possible to keep his eyes open. Myungjun was apologetic, wiping at his eyes and nose and looking forlorn, but there was no way Jinwoo could ever be upset with his boyfriend.

“Having a nightmare isn’t your fault,” Jinwoo assured him with a soft smile. “It’s your first one — it’s bound to be scary.”

“You haven’t ever kept me up with nightmares, though,” Myungjun mumbled. He sniffed and dipped his head into his chest. “And now we’re both tired because of me. I’m so sorry.”

Jinwoo kissed Myungjun’s cheek. He didn’t care how tired he was; he couldn’t blame Myungjun for struggling to understand what a nightmare was. From the sounds of it, too, it wasn’t  _ just _ a nightmare. It seemed to be similar to a memory.

And for Myungjun’s memories to be confused with nightmares meant that his life on Planet Seven  _ was _ the stuff of nightmares.

“No need to apologize,” Jinwoo told him as he pushed himself up from the bed. “Maybe you should call in sick, though. A lack of sleep can—”

Myungjun shook his head and quickly stood up. “I can’t call out sick,” he argued. “Dongmin depends on me. I don’t want to let him down. Besides, whenever I work at the cafe, I have paychecks. You like money, don’t you?”

Jinwoo wanted to laugh. The question was innocent and sweet, not meant at all to be insulting. “I do like money,” he confirmed. “But not if it means you have to push yourself in order to get it.”

“I’m not...I’m not pushing myself. I’m used to this.”

Jinwoo knew he was. One of the things Myungjun remembered from living out in space was the lack of sleep. The other aliens who controlled the workflow would constantly push Myungjun harder and harder. It didn’t matter if he hadn’t slept in days; they would force him to mine for ores. 

Jinwoo didn’t want Myungjun to be  _ used to this _ . It made him upset, and he longed for Myungjun to only experience the good that life had to offer.

“You will be pushing yourself if you go into work. I can call Dongmin and let him know that he needs other help today. Sanha will likely do it.”

He reached for his phone. Myungjun, however, grabbed his arm, effectively stopping him from calling anyone. When Jinwoo glanced over at his boyfriend in confusion, Myungjun shook his head. “I...I don’t want to be here alone,” he murmured. “I won’t go back to sleep because I’m scared to, and if you leave, then I’ll be here alone.”

Such words hurt to hear. Jinwoo stopped grasping for his phone and instead pulled Myungjun into his embrace. Myungjun’s body was always so warm and always so soft. 

He couldn’t take the day off. He had too many classes to attend. He also had a study session with a few classmates of his later in the day. He had missed it before a few times, mostly due to Myungjun’s work mishaps that he had to go clean up after, and he knew it would be foolish of him to miss anymore. His group would kick him out if he became difficult, and he needed as much help as he could get.

“Are you sure you want to go in to work?” Jinwoo asked, confirming Myungjun’s desire. When his boyfriend nodded, Jinwoo sighed. “Let’s get ready, then.”

He dropped Myungjun off. He placed a few lingering kisses on his boyfriend’s face, and he made sure to send Dongmin a text explaining a few things.

_ [from: Dongmin] so he’s experiencing some memories he had managed to push back into his subconscious? _

At least Dongmin understood it. Jinwoo, seated on the train to school, snorted. 

_ [to: Dongmin] basically, yeah. But he has placeholders still. I’ve taken the spot of someone i assume was once a friend. _

_ [from: Dongmin] “was once?” _

_ [to: Dongmin] well, in junnie’s dream, i died. brutally too. i assume he has seen someone else die in a similar manner but he’s just forgotten the face of whoever it was who died _

_ [from: Dongmin] oh _

_ [from: Dongmin] thats really sad actually. I feel bad for MJ. is there anything I can do? _

Dongmin was a bit difficult sometimes. He was steadfast in his beliefs and level-headed and hardly ever appreciated Myungjun’s nonsense. He also didn’t easily show affection. However, he knew when he ought to be more encouraging and polite, and he was willing to give Myungjun a gentle treatment in an effort to make him forget about his nightmarish past.

Jinwoo smiled. He could rest easy knowing that Myungjun was in good hands.

_ [to: Dongmin] just be nice to him. He likes you a lot.  _

_ [from: Dongmin] i know he does. He just randomly told me that. Twice.  _

Jinwoo had to stifle a giggle. He had seen Myungjun trailing behind Dongmin before, proudly narrating all that was being done. Dongmin claimed it was annoying, but Jinwoo had definitely seen him smile over it all once or twice.

_ [to: Dongmin] i have a late night tonight so make sure he gets home fine.  _

_ [from: Dongmin] Last time I tried taking him home, he turned me around and took ME home instead. He’s too nice.  _

_ [from: Dongmin] I’ll see if he wants to spend the night with me instead, since you’ll be late. Bin has been inquiring if Myungjun’s planet had prostitution, and he’s willing to provide a lesson in case Myungjun is unaware of that term. _

It was probably a bad idea to let Myungjun hang out near Bin unchaperoned. The two of them together were a disaster waiting to happen. Not only that, but it was left up to Jinwoo to either field inappropriate questions or apologize to others for lewd comments Myungjun would make.

_ [to: Dongmin] only if he wants to but pls try to keep bin in check. I will fight him if he “teaches” junnie anything _

_ [from: Dongmin] I won’t make any promises. You know how Bin is. _

Jinwoo rolled his eyes. He knew how Bin was; he also knew how whipped Dongmin was.

The train came to a halt and so began Jinwoo’s long day. He sent Dongmin one last text, then sent Myungjun a few heart emojis (to which he got a response of several different animal emojis — Myungjun had always had difficulty in figuring out which emojis to use in responses) before he trudged to his first class of the day.

He bought some coffee at some point, after realizing he was unable to keep from dozing off. His classmates definitely noticed, too. Inyoung, a close friend and study partner, nudged him the fifth time he closed his eyes and asked, “Did you sleep okay?”

“No,” Jinwoo confirmed. “I was up all night.”

Inyoung blinked. “Why?”

Jinwoo realized he didn’t have a good explanation. None of his classmates were aware of his sexuality. While Jinwoo didn’t care if strangers saw him and Myungjun together, it was a little different with people who knew him. They would likely judge him. He might lose friends, or be kicked from his study group. So how could he tell them,  _ My boyfriend had a nightmare _ without being ostracized?

He chose a different route. “A friend of mine was having some issues,” he muttered. 

“Really?” Inyoung shifted in her seat, then asked, “What was wrong with her?”

“Him,” Jinwoo corrected. He yawned, then continued, “He has...just some issues he’s trying to get over.”

Inyoung smiled brightly. “You’re a good friend to him, Jinwoo. You’re a good friend to everyone, though!”

Jinwoo said nothing about his relationship status with Myungjun. It wasn’t information anyone needed to know; even if he told the truth, how was he to explain such horrible nightmares? It was all best kept secret.

Inyoung was nice about Jinwoo’s exhaustion, fortunately. She kept him up during class by kicking him under the table at various times, and when they went to their study group together, she bought coffee.

“Extra strong,” she warned as she passed it over. “But it’ll keep you awake.”

“You’re a lifesaver,” Jinwoo murmured in appreciation, and she giggled at that.

Studying, even with the big cup of coffee, was torture. Any moment he wasn’t speaking was a moment he was ready to doze off. The numbers on his papers began to blur together. Easy equations and theories became hard; hard equations and theories became impossible. But Jinwoo, knowing his grade depended on it, stuck with it until the last of his study partners closed their books.

Inyoung walked out with him, close to his side. “It’s midnight,” she commented. “Will you be able to sleep? Do you have work tomorrow?”

“I don’t have work until the evening. Until then, I’ll sleep and maybe do a bit of homework beforehand.” 

She gave a small nod, then asked, “What if your friend wants to talk again?”

“Then I’ll talk.”

“Well, it’s nice that you’re worrying about him, but you really do need to worry more about yourself.” They walked to the bus stop and Jinwoo instantly sunk into the seat available. Inyoung sat beside him. “If you keep depriving yourself of sleep, then you’ll soon need help, too.”

Jinwoo snorted. He needed help with a great number of things; sleep deprivation might have been one of them.

They didn’t talk much more as they traveled home. Inyoung got off the bus separately, waving goodbye to him, and Jinwoo sighed deeply. He couldn’t wait to get home. At home was his bed and blankets. At home was food and drinks. At home was  _ Myungjun _ .

And Myungjun was worth any amount of sleep deprivation Jinwoo would get.

When the bus pulled up to his apartment, Jinwoo was quick to get off. He fumbled with his keys, almost losing one, but finally managed to get the door open.

The lights were on. Jinwoo blinked, then called out, “Junnie?”

There was no response. Jinwoo checked his phone. Dongmin had said that Myungjun didn’t want to spend the night. 

_ [from: dongmin] he wants to wait for you to get home. He’s needlessly sweet. _

He probably had fallen asleep while waiting. Jinwoo wouldn’t blame him.

He kicked his shoes off and stepped further into his apartment. On the kitchen table was a bowl of ramen, likely lukewarm, if not cold by that point. There was a cup of milk with it, too, and Jinwoo smiled. “Needlessly sweet,” he murmured before turning to his couch.

There lay Myungjun, curled in on himself and holding on tight to one of the couch pillows. He shivered slightly, the ceiling fan blowing unnecessary air onto him, and Jinwoo quickly turned it off.

“Junnie,” he muttered, bending down and poking his boyfriend. “Junnie, sweetie, let’s wake up.”

Myungjun’s eyelids fluttered open. He looked ethereal. He looked angelic. Jinwoo’s smile grew just from staring at his boyfriend.

“Jinnie!” Myungjun greeted, grinning widely. “I missed you! You came home really late.”

“I did,” Jinwoo replied. He felt a pang of guilt. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve come sooner so you wouldn’t be alone.”

Myungjun shook his head in response to Jinwoo’s apologies. “I’m fine. I feel a lot better now. I’m not upset. Dongmin talked to me a lot. Bin came by, too, and made me feel better.”

“Still.” Jinwoo swallowed thickly. “I want to always be there for you.”

Myungjun cooed at him, as if he were a small child, then brushed his bangs aside. “You’re sweet. But we can’t  _ always _ be around for each other. It’s not physically possible. You have to go to college, and I have to go to the cafe. However, if we invent a cloning device, we can have multiple versions of ourselves. I saw it on a show before, Jinnie, and this man had a few different versions of himself and he could be in multiple places at once.” Myungjun made a face. “Except the versions of himself had different aspirations and desires, and they liked different people. Maybe not, then.”

“Maybe not,” Jinwoo agreed. He kissed Myungjun lightly on the lips and whispered, “Let’s go to bed, hm?”

Myungjun pointed over at the ramen and milk. “I made that for you. It’s that microwave ramen you enjoy. Also, milk, because milk is good for you.”

Jinwoo didn’t want to eat the meal; the ramen would be cold and the milk would be warm. It would be disgusting. But he thought the gesture was precious. Myungjun made food for  _ him _ . Myungjun cared enough about him to ensure he would eat well.

Myungjun also stayed out in the cold living room to await his return.

“I can eat it later,” Jinwoo promised. He pulled Myungjun up from the couch, despite his boyfriend’s protests. “Come on! Bedtime. Aren’t you tired? You have to work early tomorrow, too.”

Myungjun pouted and leaned against Jinwoo. “You have to sleep, too.”

“Of course. I can’t sleep in that bed without you next to me.”

“Really?” Myungjun giggled and poked Jinwoo’s cheek. “I’m the exact same way.”

With Myungjun in his arms, curling around him in a warm embrace, Jinwoo decided he never wanted things to change. He loved his life, and he loved Myungjun even more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hit me up on my twitter page [@vonseal](https://twitter.com/thevonseal) for spoilers and general nonsense.


	3. acquiring milk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mj learns how they make his favorite drink

Impromptu trips were such a common thing now. Whereas before Jinwoo wouldn’t be caught dead jumping into a rental car without at least a month of planning, he now found the need to go on a trip every so often, little spur of the moment decisions that usually stemmed from Myungjun and his questions.

There was so much about the world that Myungjun had yet to be aware of. He didn’t know how certain things worked. He didn’t know about various landscapes. Basic Korean history was lost to him. Therefore, they traveled to as many different places as Jinwoo was able to. Museums were the most frequented trips, and Myungjun seemed to enjoy those. Jinwoo would read out the exhibit labels to him, and Myungjun would press on every interactive button he possibly could, listening to a mini tour with rapt attention. He liked old artifacts and old artwork. He liked learning.

He also enjoyed the landscapes he would see. Mountains and rivers and beaches were all new and interesting. He liked to see wild animals in their natural habitat, and he would spend hours studying everything he could about those animals.

Jinwoo liked their trips together. He liked seeing how passionate Myungjun was about new experiences, and he liked spending time with his sweet boyfriend. 

They packed up the rental car one morning with some snacks and Myungjun excitedly asked, “Where are we going today?”

It was a rare day off for the both of them and Jinwoo certainly didn’t want to waste the day away inside, not when there was so much more in the world for Myungjun to discover. He could probably take Myungjun anywhere new, anywhere different, and Myungjun would be satisfied.

But he knew  _ today _ was going to be pure satisfaction for Myungjun. He smiled widely and answered, “A dairy farm.”

Myungjun seemed to think those words through, trying his best to reach into his knowledge of the Korean language to figure out what  _ dairy _ meant. When he appeared to be struggling a bit more, Jinwoo decided to help him out. “Where cows live.”

“Cows,” Myungjun repeated with a blink. Then, suddenly, he gasped loudly and his eyes lit up in excitement. “Jinwoo, are we going to see how milk is made?” When Jinwoo nodded his head, Myungjun grinned and hurried to sit inside of the car, buckling his seatbelt as fast as he possibly could. Jinwoo moved a bit slower, and Myungjun was quick to fuss at him: “Jinwoo, you have to hurry or else I won’t ever get to see how milk is made!”

Jinwoo scoffed as he sat down in the drivers’ seat and started the car. “You know how milk is made. You’ve watched plenty of documentaries.”

“Yeah, but it’s different to see it in person. Plus I might get to pet some of the cows, which you know has been my life goal since I was made.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“Now you do,” said Myungjun, very matter-of-fact in his comment. 

Jinwoo laughed a little bit and he couldn’t help but lean over and plant a kiss onto Myungjun’s soft cheek. Myungjun grinned and rubbed the kiss into his skin, a habit he liked to do in order to keep the kiss with him forever and ever.

No matter how many times they kissed, Jinwoo always felt as if each one was new and wonderful. He couldn’t get tired of the love and affection they both poured into their relationship, and he often wondered how he was able to get so lucky.

Not many people had hot aliens crash land into their life.

After Myungjun had ensured the kiss was well-massaged into his skin, he gestured for them to head out and begin the journey. Wasting time was Myungjun’s least favorite pastime, and so Jinwoo was quick in turning away from their apartment and heading down the road, listening to his GPS spit out the directions. 

They listened to the radio mostly, popular tunes that Myungjun had heard before, stuff he could hum along to. The dairy farm wasn’t too far away, and so neither of them grew too bored.

As they neared the location, Myungjun suddenly asked, “Are you sure you’re not an alien, Jinwoo?”

Jinwoo cast him a quick glance before looking back out at the road. “What an odd question. Of course I’m not. Why?”

“It’s weird,” Myungjun agreed. “It’s an odd question. But recently, I’ve been having these odd memories of Planet Seven. You’re with me in some of them. Sometimes we look up at the stars together and sometimes you hold my hand and make me feel happy, which wasn’t an emotion I felt until I arrived here, I think. I’m not sure. It’s weird, isn’t it?”

It was weird, but Jinwoo thought it could be easily explained. He gave Myungjun’s knee a small pat and smiled. “Perhaps your memories are trying to remember happier times, and times we spend together are happy. Perhaps that’s all it is.”

“Or you were cloned and maybe I hung out with your clone on Planet Seven,” was Myungjun’s comment, and Jinwoo laughed a little bit.

“You’re interested in clones, aren’t you?”

“Only if it’s your clone!” Myungjun said, grinning and pushing his memories of Planet Seven from his mind. “I want clones of Jinwoo so you can be with me wherever I go! One clone can come with me to the cafe and another one can be home when I get home so I don’t have to wait on you.”

“I think you’d get tired of me,” Jinwoo commented.

Myungjun snorted and shook his head. “That’s impossible. I can’t get tired of you. I’d  _ never _ get tired of you, trust me.”

So far, he hadn’t. So far, he had given Jinwoo no reason to not trust him. So far, he had yet to  _ want _ to distance himself.

They were perfect for each other in that regard.

“Well, in any case, I think cloning me isn’t a great idea. You want the one and only Jinwoo, don’t you?”

“I do,” Myungjun agreed. “Clones of Jinwoo wouldn’t be as great as the  _ real _ Jinwoo.”

Jinwoo hummed lightly and fell silent again as he drove. He knew Myungjun had difficulties in talking about his past, and he knew that was partially because Myungjun was confused about many aspects of his past. He had forgotten a lot of the truly horrendous memories. Jinwoo recalled the way Myungjun had cried during his nightmare. There was that sputtered confession of what he really was forced to go through, and Jinwoo’s heart lurched in his chest.

Myungjun could have been beaten to death at any moment. Myungjun could have died on that planet and he would have been tossed aside. They would just make a new worker, wouldn’t they? According to Myungjun, those aliens had an entire facility where workers were made in tubes. They were disposable. 

The thought of his sweet Myungjun being  _ disposable _ was too much to handle. Jinwoo reached a hand over and grasped onto Myungjun’s own hand. Myungjun looked at him in surprise.

“Are you okay?” Myungjun asked.

Jinwoo struggled with his words for a few seconds. How was he to convey all of his emotions? How could he properly thank Myungjun for escaping such a wretched planet and finding his way to Jinwoo’s apartment? There were no words for such feelings, and so he squeezed Myungjun’s hand.

“I love you,” he murmured instead.

Myungjun smiled fondly and intertwined his fingers with Jinwoo’s. “I love you, too,” he replied. He brought Jinwoo’s hand to his mouth and planted a gentle kiss across the knuckles, which he then rubbed in with his free hand. “I love you a lot and I’m happy we’re on Earth together instead of Planet Seven.”

“Me, too.”

“And I’m happy that Earth has milk. And Bin. And snow.”

Jinwoo snorted. “You love a lot of things, don’t you?”

“Yes.” When Myungjun saw Jinwoo’s pout, he laughed and kissed Jinwoo’s hand for a second time. “But I love nothing as much as I love Jinwoo!” he exclaimed, his voice melodic and light with laughter.

Jinwoo had been long assured that he was Myungjun’s true love. He couldn’t doubt his boyfriend, and once he stopped at an intersection, waiting for his light to turn green, he leaned over and smacked his lips against Myungjun’s.

Myungjun made a noise in shock, but then laughed and returned the kiss before patting Jinwoo’s cheek with his free hand. “Obey traffic laws,” he ordered.

“I am! I stopped when I’m supposed to.”

“You should pay attention, though. That’s a traffic law, isn’t it? Dongmin taught me that. He says when I learn how to drive, it’s important.”

Jinwoo shuddered and returned to watching the lights. “I can’t imagine you driving. It’s scary to think about.”

“Hey! I drive really well! I drove a spaceship all the way here, didn’t I?”

“You crashed it.”

Myungjun scoffed. “Your planet just doesn’t have ports where spaceships can land, that’s all.”

“Airport,” Jinwoo mumbled, and Myungjun tried to release his hand. Jinwoo just laughed and kept a tight hold, for he didn't wish to drive without Myungjun’s physical touch. 

Fortunately, Myungjun’s anger vanished rather quickly, and they spent the rest of the drive talking about mundane things. Myungjun had just finished explaining how he and Bin were planning to get matching tattoos together (and Jinwoo decided he could argue the plan later, when he had Bin nearby to yell at) when they pulled into the long driveway that would lead them to the dairy farm.

Cows began to pop up, safely contained behind fences. They munched on hay and grass, tails swishing away bugs and flies, and Myungjun watched them all with excitement and wonder.

“They’re big,” he muttered, “just like I saw on the laptop. Do they bite?”

“I don’t think so,” Jinwoo responded. “But I wouldn’t put your hands near their face, anyway, just in case.”

Myungjun nodded his head, taking Jinwoo’s words to heart. His eyes lit up as they neared the farm, and he asked, “Do you think they’ll teach me how to acquire milk from a cow? I’ve seen videos — you have to pull on that-that thing, right? And you can get milk that way. I want to try it. Do you wanna do it, too?”

“Seems gross,” Jinwoo stated, parking the car and turning off the engine. “Doesn’t it? Touching something like that.”

Myungjun scrunched up his nose. “You were nervous about sex, too, and now you’re nervous about cow parts.”

His boyfriend was really a work of art. Jinwoo tried not to laugh as he got out of the car. “Sounds like you’re being mean to me,” he accused.

“Oh, come on! Don’t be a baby!” Myungjun teased. He climbed out from the car, too, and hooked his arm with Jinwoo’s, dragging him toward the farm. “You’re gonna acquire milk from the cow, or else I will leave you and live my days alongside these beautiful, alien creatures.”

Jinwoo had been with Myungjun long enough to know that Myungjun’s threat was true, so he sighed and nodded his head in agreement. 

They checked in with one of the farmers. Jinwoo had called ahead and asked for a tour, which they were excited to give. He paid extra, having saved up money for this very purpose, and he felt it was well-worth the price when he was able to see Myungjun’s excited gaze as they were shown the pasture.

Jinwoo realized, as he watched Myungjun, that he would have been terribly jealous a year ago. Seeing the way Myungjun had eyes only for those damn cows, seeing the way he spoke highly of them to the tour guide and hung onto every single piece of information, would have sent daggers into Jinwoo’s hearts. After all, he had been jealous of snow before; he would have definitely been jealous of cows. But now he knew that he was number one in Myungjun’s heart, so he didn’t mind seeing Myungjun practically sob over a calf and proclaim how precious it was and how much he loved it ‘more than anything else in the world.’

Besides, as Myungjun held it gently, he smiled up at Jinwoo with the brightest grin Jinwoo had seen in a very long time, and he asked, “Can we take her home?”

“Don’t think we have room for a cow, Jun,” Jinwoo replied, giggling a little bit as Myungjun peppered kisses all along the cow’s head.

“She’s small,” Myungjun said in an effort to convince Jinwoo. “And cute. I doubt she’ll take up too much space.”

“But she’ll grow big,” Jinwoo reminded him, ignoring the strange look the farmer was giving them. “As big as the cows we saw in the pasture. And then she’d crush me.”

Myungjun laughed and kissed the calf’s head again, whispering to it, “Once we’re out of the apartment, I’ll come back for you. You’ll live in a big house with us.”

He was reluctant to leave the calf behind, but the farmer assured them that they could see more cows, and that he’d be able to pet those cows, too. So Myungjun hooked arms with Jinwoo for a second time, though as they trailed behind the farmer, he whispered, “Is this alright?”

“Hm?” Jinwoo asked.

Myungjun gestured to their arms. “You aren’t comfortable showing a lot of affection sometimes. Is this okay, then? Am I being too bold?”

Jinwoo knew what he was referring to. At college, Jinwoo was not yet out. He was no longer in the arts, where students were liberal and accepting of anything that differed from the norm. He was in a science field, where people were far more rigid and might not be as open to his relationship. In any case, he had yet to meet any classmates who  _ were _ out, whereas he had several gay friends in the arts. As such, he was too nervous to parade Myungjun around as his boyfriend. If they were together, Jinwoo treated Myungjun as a friend rather than a  _ boy _ friend.

He felt horrible about it, and when he apologized in tears one evening, Myungjun simply hugged him and kissed him.

“I know you still love me,” Myungjun had said, just as cheerful as ever. “You don’t need to prove it every five seconds. And you don’t need to prove it to  _ them _ . Just to me.”

Myungjun was too wonderful, really, and Jinwoo loved him. He kissed Myungjun’s cheek as the farmer kept walking and explaining aspects of the dairy industry, completely oblivious to the conversation taking place behind him.

“You’re perfectly fine,” Jinwoo murmured. “It’s just around those annoying college kids, hm? This is okay, though.”

Myungjun smiled. “So I can add dairy farmers to my list of people who are allowed to be privy to our relationship?”

“God, sure. Add dairy farmers to that list.”

“Got it.” Myungjun nodded his head. “Dairy farmers, grocery store employees, and Dongmin’s little brother. All people who can know how much I adore you.”

Jinwoo thought that Dongmin’s little brother ought to be taken out of that list, if only because he was certain Dongmin’s brother was scarred from the last time they met. Myungjun had been a little too open with his relationship, before he understood the meaning of inappropriate behavior, and had proudly explained to Dongmin’s brother his sexual escapades with Jinwoo. 

Dongmin hadn’t been happy about that.

Still, Jinwoo decided against saying anything, if only because he knew Myungjun meant no harm. He simply laughed and brought Myungjun’s hand up to his mouth to give it a gentle kiss before they rounded the corner to where more of the cows were kept.

The farmer gave a demonstration on how to properly milk a cow. Myungjun watched with rapt attention and Jinwoo wondered how on earth he’d be able to ever get out of this one. He didn’t find it appealing, really, touching a cow’s udder and squeezing out milk. He was shocked that Myungjun did.

Once the farmer finished with his own demonstration, Myungjun took a seat on the stool provided to him and placed his hands where the farmer ordered. He listened carefully as the farmer explained how his fingers should move and how much pressure he should give, and finally the farmer took a step back and gave Myungjun the opportunity to milk his first cow.

Myungjun grinned in excitement all the while. He looked like he was doing a good job, too, for a considerable amount of milk was being squirted into the bucket below. Jinwoo wrinkled his nose, slightly put off by the entire experience, but when Myungjun turned to face him, Jinwoo smiled brightly.

“You try!” Myungjun ordered, standing from the stool and gesturing toward the cow. “I want to see how good Jinwoo is with an udder!”

He truly  _ had _ listened to all the farmer told him, but Jinwoo decided he didn’t quite like Myungjun’s new knowledge. Still, he had promised he would, and so he sat on the stool with a sigh, trying to remember what the farmer had been saying.

It wasn’t as bad as he assumed it would be, but he only got a few tugs in before he gave up. “That’s plenty,” he muttered, hopeful that he could wash his hands in the next couple of minutes.

He was happy that Myungjun was satisfied with that much, at least. When the farmer offered them both a sip of the milk they had helped to gather, Jinwoo was able to reject it with no pushback from Myungjun.

Mostly because Myungjun was excited to drink more milk.

He downed the small cup quickly, smacking his lips with pleasure once he had swallowed. “Not as good as Jinwoo’s milk,” he commented, passing the cup over to the bemused farmer.

Jinwoo would have to work on Myungjun’s word choices.

The tour finished with a look at the cows around the pasture. They stayed on the outskirts, staring out at the large creatures from afar, and Myungjun leaned his head onto Jinwoo’s shoulder.

Jinwoo smiled at him. “Have you had fun?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Myungjun replied, voice quiet. “But I always have fun when I’m with you.”

Content that Myungjun’s mind was no longer on the horrors of his planet, Jinwoo planted a kiss on his boyfriend’s forehead and whispered back, “Me, too.”

He would ensure that Myungjun forgot every awful thing that ever happened to him. He would ensure that Myungjun’s future was the best he could offer.

He would ensure that he loved Myungjun forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hit me up on my twitter page [@vonseal](https://twitter.com/thevonseal) for spoilers and general nonsense.


	4. hello jinwoo's mother

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i got some questions before about the ring in jinwoo's drawer so HERE

Jinwoo woke in the morning disoriented, confused, and being shaken like a rag doll by his hyperactive boyfriend. Myungjun, frantic, kept whispering a chant. “Wake up. Wake up. Jinnie, wake up!”

“Mm, I’m up,” Jinwoo mumbled, though he couldn’t help but yawn as he slowly picked his head up from the pillow. “What’s going on?”

“Someone’s knocking at the door,” Myungjun told him. “I’d answer it, but last time it was that man who forced me to buy those food containers and I don’t want to take another chance on answering the door.”

Poor Myungjun had been scarred by a pushy salesman who had somehow convinced him that his life would be useless and he would die from plastic poisoning unless he purchased a couple hundred of some cheap containers. Myungjun had been distraught over the entire situation and had nearly shed tears when he told Jinwoo the story. Jinwoo had a difficult time returning the products and the entire ordeal lasted several days longer than it ought to. 

He never opened the door anymore, and Jinwoo couldn’t necessarily blame him. 

“Probably Sanha,” Jinwoo moaned, trying to force himself out of bed. It was difficult, what with it being so early on a Monday morning, the only day both he and Myungjun could spend time together. He tried his best to straighten out his hair as he stood from the bed.

At least his pajamas weren’t too embarrassing. Myungjun had bought him some truly horrendous pajama sets over the years, which Jinwoo wore because he took his role as a boyfriend very seriously. Myungjun had also bought him lingerie, at the encouragement of Bin and Minhyuk (who never partook in Bin’s nonsense normally, but admitted he wanted to see Jinwoo in skimpy, kinky, women’s underwear). 

He shuffled out of his bedroom, Myungjun hot on his heels talking about that pushy salesman and how he hoped Jinwoo would slam the door in his face if it  _ was _ him. Jinwoo could only half-hear, still being only half-awake.

When he opened the door, however, it was neither Sanha nor the pushy salesman.

It was his mother.

“Mom?” Jinwoo exclaimed. He felt much more alert now, and he stared owlishly at his mother, who only smiled sweetly at him and ruffled his hair.

“Morning, Jinwoo! Sorry I woke you up. I tried texting and calling, but you didn’t answer.”

Jinwoo had unplugged his phone before he went to sleep to watch videos with Myungjun. He assumed Myungjun had kept watching them into the night and had forgotten to plug the phone back in again.

“Sorry. My, uh, my phone died. Why did you come, though?”

“Just for a visit. With your dad away on his business trip, I got a little bored by myself. Besides, I’ve really been wanting to meet your boyfriend.” She peered around Jinwoo’s shoulder where Myungjun stood.

He wore Jinwoo’s boxers and a t-shirt. Jinwoo winced, realizing the implications that could come from his clothing choices, but his mother chose not to comment on that. Instead, she waved to Myungjun and greeted, “Hello, Myungjun! It’s so nice to finally meet you!”

Myungjun looked confused. Jinwoo had explained to him about parents, about mothers and fathers, but it was likely Myungjun’s first time being in such close contact with a parent who knew him. He waved back cautiously and replied, “Hello, Jinwoo’s mother.”

“You can call me Hyogi,” Jinwoo’s mother told him, stepping inside the small apartment. She took her shoes off while looking around and asked, “Why is it so messy in here?”

Jinwoo glanced into his living room. It wasn’t that bad, really. He had a lot of textbooks laying around and he had left a cup in the sink overnight, but otherwise it was relatively clean. His mother always did expect  _ better _ , though. She liked  _ spotless _ , and Jinwoo had always managed to get his apartment spotless for her before, when he knew she would be visiting. The surprise visit had caught him off-guard, unfortunately, and he peeked around to make sure he hadn’t left anything damning in clear view. 

As long as she didn’t see Myungjun’s Beginner’s Korean Language books, he might be fine. 

“I was going to clean today,” he assured her, allowing her to step further inside. Myungjun still remained close behind him. “Myungjun and I both have the day off, so we were going to clean.”

“That’s fine, then.” His mother grinned as if she hadn’t just accused Jinwoo of being a slob. “Let me see Myungjun, though! I want to learn more about your new boyfriend. You don’t tell us much over the phone.”

He didn’t tell them much because he was terrible at lying and he found it difficult to answer questions like  _ Where did you two meet? _ and  _ Where’s Myungjun from? _ And now he knew that Myungjun would be forced to answer all of those questions by himself.

Great.

Sure enough, the moment Myungjun was left vulnerable, his mother instantly began her interrogation. “How did you and Jinwoo meet? He hasn’t exactly explained it to me.”

Myungjun shot a brief glance to Jinwoo, who tried his best to cut in. “It’s not necessary for him to explain, Mom.”

“I want to know! I think I deserve to know, right? I gave birth to you, after all, and you weren’t exactly a tiny baby.” She kept her attention directed toward Myungjun, who cleared his throat and averted his eyes. “Is it embarrassing? Is that why you won’t tell me?”

Embarrassing himself would be a far better option than revealing Myungjun’s personal information, information that his mom likely wouldn’t even believe. 

“We met in a club,” Jinwoo interjected, laughing awkwardly as he tried to detract attention away from Myungjun’s faltering form. “Bin took me there and I met Myungjun. He’s probably too shy to tell you.”

“A club?” His mother sighed, exasperated with the idea of her son hanging out in some dingy nightclub. “But you’ve been a couple for a year now, correct?”

“That’s right,” Jinwoo confirmed. Myungjun nodded, too, pleased to at least have one question that he could properly answer. “I really love him, Mom, and we don’t go to those clubs anymore.”

His mother was easy to please, at least, and she smiled at the both of them. “That’s all that matters, then!” She ruffled Jinwoo’s hair again and said, “Why don’t the two of you get dressed? I’ll take you both out for breakfast. My treat.”

Jinwoo was a college student who never made much money, and he was more than happy to take her up on that offer. He agreed quickly and grabbed Myungjun’s arm to pull him back into the bedroom, hollering at his mother, “Take a seat! We’ll be out soon!”

Once the door was closed behind them, Jinwoo thought it best to apologize. “I’m so sorry. I really had no idea she’d come here. Usually she calls if she wants to see me, so this is—”

“It’s fine!” Myungjun assured him. “I’ve always wanted to meet your family. I wanted to see a mother for myself. You have a father, too, don’t you? Why can’t I meet him?”

“He’s working right now. Business trip. It means he’s traveled somewhere and won’t be back for a couple of days. I guess Mom’s lonelier than she thought she’d be.” Jinwoo began to rifle through his drawers for something clean to wear, and something to throw at Myungjun. He wanted Myungjun to impress his mother, so he opted finally for a button-up shirt with some nice trousers. “Wear these. You look handsome in this shirt.”

Myungjun giggled as he slid out of his pajamas. “You think I look handsome in everything I wear,” he pointed out. “You always say I look super handsome!”

“Damn right I do. And it’s true; you always  _ do _ look super handsome.”

There was a faint blush rising to Myungjun’s cheeks and his boyfriend scoffed at him as he dressed in the clothes Jinwoo had passed over. “Not  _ always! _ Minhyuk says I look like a corpse when I first wake up in the mornings. A corpse, Jinwoo, is a dead body.”

“I know what a corpse is, and you do  _ not _ look like a corpse. If anyone does, it’s Minhyuk. He’s super ugly compared to you.”

“No he isn’t!” Myungjun exclaimed, defending his close friend from Jinwoo’s ridicule. “Minhyuk is very handsome. That’s the reason Sanha wants to date him!”

Jinwoo believed Sanha was the worst judge of beauty, since he always claimed Dongmin was the prettiest out of everyone (when the clear choice was Myungjun), but he chose not to argue the point. Besides, he also needed to dress and meet his mother back in the living room and hope that she hadn’t found anything that would somehow give away Myungjun’s deep, dark secret.

After they both combed their hair and brushed their teeth, Jinwoo went out to meet his mother again. Fortunately, she was sitting on the couch and checking her phone, though when she saw the boys emerge from the bedroom, she pocketed her phone into her jeans and stood up, smiling widely at Myungjun.

“You look very handsome in that shirt!” she commented.

Jinwoo smirked. “I told you.”

Myungjun seemed to ignore Jinwoo’s smug statement and he instead smiled shyly. “Thank you, Jinwoo’s mother.”

She laughed. “I told you to just call me Hyogi. Let’s drop the formalities. You’re just so polite!”

It wasn’t necessarily a polite attitude that brought about the titles. Myungjun had difficulty remembering names sometimes, and it was far easier for him to remember labels.  _ Best Friend Dongmin. Boyfriend Bin. Next Door Neighbor Suhyun. _ He took a while to drop the titles sometimes.

At least he tried for Jinwoo’s mother, and ended up nodding to her and replying, “Alright, Hyogi.”

Jinwoo’s mother beamed, pleased her order had gone through. Without further ado, she opened Jinwoo’s front door and gestured for the two boys to follow her. “I’ve researched a good place around here for breakfast. Myungjun, do you like traditional breakfasts?”

Myungjun hardly ever ate breakfast. He would usually drink a smoothie of his own concoction, or else he would nibble on a slice of bread here or there. Sometimes, on rare occasions, he would make himself some rice, but not often. He saved the meals for lunch and dinner.

Before Jinwoo could answer with any of this, however, Myungjun nodded his head. “Yes, Hyogi! Traditional breakfasts are my favorite!”

This seemed to please Jinwoo’s mother even more. She exclaimed, “Great! Then you’ll love this place I’ve chosen. I’ll drive us there, my car is parked right out front!”

It wasn’t until they were walking down the sidewalk, Jinwoo and Myungjun trailing a bit behind, that Myungjun asked in a low whisper, “What’s a traditional breakfast?”

“It’s…” Jinwoo didn’t know how to explain everything in such a short period of time, and without his mom overhearing the conversation. “You’ll like it,” he finally replied. “It’s very light on the stomach.”

Myungjun looked relieved. “Oh, good. Will they have milk?”

“I’m sure they will.”

Myungjun seemed satisfied with their decision by the time they reached the car, though Jinwoo knew that he still had no idea what was in store for him. As long as he had milk, though, and some rice to munch on slowly, then Jinwoo was sure his stomach would be able to handle breakfast.

Along the way, Jinwoo’s mother chatted about the family. She told Jinwoo about his uncle who remarried and the cousin who got busted for drugs and the niece who returned from America where she was busy getting a Master’s degree. Jinwoo, in turn, talked about his own friends; Dongmin’s cafe was finally making a profit, Sanha was getting ready for exams, and Minhyuk had passed an audition for a ballet troupe. 

“What about the two of you?” Jinwoo’s mother asked. “What are  _ you _ doing?”

Myungjun answered, again, before Jinwoo could. “I’m working with Dongmin! I’m making a lot of money with him. And I keep getting a lot of numbers; Jinwoo says the girls are interested in having me call them back. But I don’t,” he added, and sweetly grabbed Jinwoo’s hand. “Because I love my Jinnie!”

Jinwoo’s mother cooed. Jinwoo thought he was going to melt.

“And Jinwoo is studying hard in school,” Myungjun continued. “He’s learning about space.” 

“I still can’t believe you switched degrees from theater to astronomy,” his mother mused, shaking her head in disbelief. “It’s such a difficult topic. But the jobs are  _ fantastic _ . What are you planning to do with your degree, Jinwoo?”

“I’d like to do research,” Jinwoo answered, keeping a tight hold of Myungjun’s hand. “So once I get my doctoral degree, I’ll likely stick around at the university to conduct research. They pay pretty well, and I’ll be able to use all of their equipment. I might discover planets that had never been discovered before.” He cast a glance at Myungjun. It was clear Myungjun wanted to burst and talk about his own planet, and the planets he saw along the way to Earth, but he said nothing. He knew it was in his best interest to keep quiet about his previous life. “Who knows?” Jinwoo finished, a soft smile on his face as he gazed upon his boyfriend.

His mother hummed, appreciating the information, and asked, “And then you can answer the question of ‘are we alone in the universe’ once and for all.”

“Well, I already don’t think we’re alone.”

“Really?” She looked at him in the rearview mirror. “Why do you think that?”

Jinwoo was careful not to look over at Myungjun, just in case his mom somehow started to catch on. Instead, he shrugged his shoulders and murmured, “I don’t know. Just a gut feeling I have.”

Myungjun tried not to giggle.

They spoke no more of aliens. The conversation turned trivial, mostly with Jinwoo’s mother talking about Jinwoo as a child. Myungjun was eager to hear more about  _ little Jinwoo _ (as he said) and he ate up every single story, constantly poking at Jinwoo’s cheek and proclaiming how cute he must have been.

As they parked and exited the car, Jinwoo’s mother exclaimed, “I’ll have to bring over pictures the next time I come! I have so many of him as a child!”

Myungjun laughed and hooked his arm around Jinwoo’s. Jinwoo wanted to moan and complain and accuse the two of them of conspiring against him, but he couldn’t get a word in, not with how talkative Myungjun was. 

“I’d  _ love _ to see baby photos! Can I have some? I want to hang them all up in our apartment.”

“You don’t,” Jinwoo whispered, but his mother was louder and Myungjun was obviously paying far more attention to her.

“I’ll make some copies!” she responded, and Jinwoo groaned, pulling away from his boyfriend to signify his distress. Myungjun didn’t make a move to rope him back in. He only laughed brightly and flashed Jinwoo a cheesy smile.

Jinwoo returned it with a glare.

The restaurant his mom had chosen was small and quaint. Jinwoo was certain he had been at the place before, as the tables and decor looked a little familiar. He didn’t eat out much, unless it was on Dongmin’s dime, and preferred to stay home and fill himself up on whatever foods were on sale at the grocery store. Even when Myungjun moved in with him, he never did have to shell out too much money. Myungjun ate mostly liquids; soups, smoothies, and whatever else he could mash up or blend together to make it easier on his stomach. Myungjun didn’t have expensive tastes, so Jinwoo’s wallet hardly ever suffered.

Jinwoo’s mother ordered for them, a tasty spread of her favorite breakfast items. Myungjun watched with interest, recognizing a few of the foods here and there, though others he was still unsure about. He wiped his expression clear of any confusion when Jinwoo’s mother looked back over at him, nodding along to whatever she had ordered.

He  _ did _ add on a milk for his drink, which was his only contribution, and to not make him feel like the odd man out, Jinwoo asked for the same thing.

Once the waitress had gone to the kitchen, Jinwoo’s mother asked, “Now since I’ve met Myungjun, when will you two get married?”

Jinwoo stared at her, eyes wide. “What?”

“You told me you wanted me to meet Myungjun before you got married to him. Now, I know it isn’t legal here yet, but you can always do it somewhere else. I’m sure there’s a way to get a marriage license in another country. Maybe it won’t be completely valid here, but it’ll still count for something. But I want a ceremony here, at least, so that way your grandmother can attend. She’s too old to travel.”   
Jinwoo grit his teeth down. He definitely had plans to marry Myungjun, though he didn’t want them brought up right now. The ring was still hidden in his drawer as he tried to think of ways to propose and as he tried to get over his fear of proposing and being a penniless college student. 

“We can discuss it later,” he muttered, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Myungjun didn’t look over at him. He stared down at the table instead.

Jinwoo’s mother sighed. “Fine. We’ll discuss it later.” She stood from her seat, placing her purse on her chair, and said, “I’ll go wash my hands. Be right back, okay?”

Jinwoo was thankful she left, if only so he could breathe a little bit. “Sorry about her,” he apologized to Myungjun. “I’ll discuss it with  _ you _ , too, just...not now.”

Myungjun didn’t answer him. He still stared at the table, his eyebrows furrowed with confusion.

Jinwoo tried again to get his attention. “Junnie? Babe? What’s up?”

“I was  _ made _ in a factory,” Myungjun muttered to him. He kept his gaze averted. “Wasn’t I?”

The question was confusing. “I...I suppose so. That’s what you’ve told me before. And I’m fine with that. It’s perfectly fine.”

“I was made. I know I was. But I remember…” He took a deep breath. “I think I had a mom.”

Jinwoo couldn’t even get a chance to comprehend that sentence, for his own mother was rushing back and Myungjun had plastered on a bright smile again, ready to sell himself as a prime candidate for Jinwoo’s husband.

All Jinwoo could think about for the rest of the visit was Myungjun’s sudden revelation. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hit me up on my twitter page [@vonseal](https://twitter.com/thevonseal) for spoilers and general nonsense.
> 
> also, if you don't follow me on twitter or if you don't have a twitter, please head over to my twitter for information about a ficfest! you can request prompts and/or claim prompts for fic writing. it'll be a lot of fun and i hope everyone can join!


	5. uncovering the memories (and studying a lot)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we learn absolutely nothing in this chapter :)

Jinwoo’s mother stuck around for a while. She wanted to go shopping, she claimed, and then after that she wanted to visit Dongmin. Myungjun was bright and cheerful the entire time, conversing with Jinwoo’s mother when he ought and laughing when he should. His acting skills were phenomenal, but even as Myungjun seemingly enjoyed himself, Jinwoo grew more and more antsy as the day went on.

He tried to get Myungjun alone. When his mother would turn a corner, Jinwoo would whisper, “What did you mean when you said you had a mother?”

Myungjun’s persona would falter then. He would swallow thickly and shrug his shoulders before scurrying off. He didn’t  _ want _ to talk; all Jinwoo wanted to do was talk. He wanted to figure things out. Why had Myungjun mentioned his mother? Why had he led Jinwoo to believe, for a full year, that he had no mother? Why would he suddenly bring it up  _ now _ ? 

By the end of the day, Jinwoo was practically shaking with nerves and questions. His own mother noticed and asked, “Is everything alright?”

Jinwoo nodded his head, noticing how Myungjun pointedly ignored his anxiety. “Yeah. Just...I forgot I have an exam coming up that I need to study for. Several exams, actually.” It wasn’t a lie at all; he had finals and he had yet to truly sit down and study for them. 

“Why didn’t you tell me, then?” his mother asked, surprised with Jinwoo’s admission. “I wouldn’t have stuck around for so long.”

“I didn’t want to kick you out.”  _ That _ was a lie. Jinwoo wanted his mother to leave as quickly as she could, so that he could talk to Myungjun with no distractions.

She smiled and kissed Jinwoo’s cheek. He wrinkled his nose and sighed, “Mom, I’m not a kid anymore.”

“You’ll always be my kid,” she countered. Then, she turned to Myungjun and grinned at him. “I’m so happy I was finally able to meet you. Make sure that Jinwoo studies, okay? And don't be a stranger; you’re welcome at my home anytime, okay?”

Myungjun nodded his head eagerly. “Okay! Thank you very much, Hyogi!”

Jinwoo’s mother beamed. “You’re so sweet. Jinwoo, he’s the sweetest. Take good care of him or else. Myungjun, you tell me if he’s not taking care of you. He needs to make you food and do your laundry—”

“Mom, seriously,” Jinwoo whined, but she kept talking and cooing over Myungjun until Jinwoo was finally able to get her out of the apartment.

Myungjun fell silent. His smile vanished and he asked, “Do you really have exams?”

“I do. Finals. I haven’t even started studying. It’s going to be awful.” He locked the door behind his mother and faced Myungjun, examining his boyfriend with a serious gaze. “Jun, what’s going on? Why did you talk about your mother? You said you didn’t  _ have _ —”

“I don’t,” Myungjun interrupted. “Or...I  _ didn’t _ , I guess. I don’t know. I’m…” The poor man shook his head. It was obvious he was in distress. It was obvious he was confused about his own revelation and had no idea what to do next. “But as your mother was talking, I had...I have this memory. I can’t figure it out. It’s a woman telling me to call her  _ mom _ . I’m in a house. I never lived in a house, Jinnie, I only lived in the living quarters and those were dark and dirty. The house was clean. It must have been the house of someone rich and wealthy on the planet, someone who didn’t have to work in the mines. And...I remember calling this woman my mom.”

Jinwoo continued to stare at Myungjun. Myungjun’s life before he came to Earth had been horrible. He had suffered so much and had no one to turn to. How could it be possible, then, that he completely forgot about a mother? How could he have believed all this time that he was made in a factory when he was instead brought up by loving parents?

“Do you think you were...made to forget? Did they do something to you to make you forget about your parents?”

“If they did, why do I remember my mom now?” Myungjun asked, eyes wide as he struggled to find answers within himself. “It’s such a clear memory, too. She had black hair. She didn’t look like me at all. She looked like...she looked  _ different _ . But many of the wealthy looked different from us. They were born; we were made. So of course she looked different.” He bit at his lip, gnawing it with worry, and asked, “Is my memory completely wrong?”

Jinwoo had no response. He could only stare and wonder what had happened to Myungjun. What happened to make him forget everything? What had those aliens actually done to him?

Myungjun sighed and suddenly announced, “You need to study.”

“What?”

“You said you have finals. You ought to study, then, to get ready for your finals.”

“I can’t study. Not now. Myungjun, we need to figure this out—”

“I need to figure it out,” Myungjun exclaimed. “Not you. You had no part of my past. It’s not your burden to figure out. It’s mine, and only mine.” He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “Besides, maybe I’m wrong. Maybe I’m misremembering. I mean, I thought you had been on the planet with me due to my memories. I must be wrong about this memory, too.”

It was possible that Myungjun was trying to piece together odd memories he had of his childhood. It was possible his mind was making it all up in an attempt to add some sort of normalcy to his life. 

“The first memory,” Jinwoo muttered, “could simply have been a dream. A nightmare. I’ll have weird dreams that feel real but have no basis in reality. And the second could just...it could be you trying to make a new memory, a  _ good _ memory. It’s possible.”

Myungjun didn’t seem convinced. “Maybe.”

Jinwoo wasn’t sure how to help. He didn’t know if it was possible to recover lost memories; he didn’t know if he’d be able to ever do such a thing. Besides, what if Myungjun forgot everything for a reason? If his planet was awful enough, what if he forgot specific incidents to protect himself?

“What do you need me to do?” Jinwoo asked, reaching out to grasp onto Myungjun’s hand. He intertwined their fingers together. “Say the word, and I’ll do anything. I’ll help you forget or I’ll help you remember. I’ll bring my mom back to see if you can uncover any other memories, or I’ll make her stay away so you can keep out things you don’t want to know. Anything you need, Junnie, I can help you with.”

The smile Myungjun gave him was sweet. “I want you to study. You need to study.”

Jinwoo grimaced. “You don’t have to repeat yourself again. I...I know, I guess. But you’re more important than studying.”

“I know!” Myungjun exclaimed. “I definitely am! But I’m fine! If it is a memory, I can work it out. I’ll learn soon what it means, and when I do that, you’ll have passed all of your exams and you’ll be super smart.”

Before Jinwoo could say anything else to counter Myungjun’s words, his boyfriend began to gather some textbooks that he knew Jinwoo would use very frequently. He piled them on top of the kitchen table and pointed. “Here,” he ordered. “Sit and work hard. I’ll work on my Korean book and work right alongside you, if you want.”

Jinwoo scrunched up his nose. “Myungjun, I’d rather talk to you about—”

“I don’t want to talk. I want to work.”

“If we don’t talk, do you think this will just go away? Do you think you’ll just forget that memory again, or uncover something else? Do you think you’ll get anywhere if we don’t actually talk about what you—”

“I don’t want to talk!” Myungjun suddenly shouted. He seemed surprised at his own outburst and he cleared his throat, looking down at the floor as a red blush overtook his cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Jinnie. I didn’t mean to yell.”

Jinwoo felt horrible. It was his pestering that caused Myungjun to finally lash out. Myungjun  _ never _ lashed out, and he never yelled, so Jinwoo had truly pushed his buttons. He moved forward and gathered Myungjun in a hug, embracing him lightly and kissing the side of his head.

“It’s not your fault,” Jinwoo assured him. “I kept it up, even when you told me to stop. It’s my fault.  _ I’m _ sorry. I know you must be frustrated.”

Myungjun, fortunately, leaned into the hug and allowed his head to rest on Jinwoo’s shoulder. “I just...I’m so confused. I think I just need to sit on this for a while. I don’t really want to discuss it, because I’m not sure what  _ it _ is.” 

“I understand.” Jinwoo kissed Myungjun again. “We don’t have—”

“And I’m so sorry I yelled. I...I don’t know why.”

“Because I was being a douchebag.”

“You  _ weren’t _ . Don’t say that.”

“I was, though.” He had definitely been a jerk. He hadn’t thought of the difficulties Myungjun must be experiencing from the one memory (fake or otherwise) he had retained. All he wanted to do was learn more about Myungjun’s past, with little regard to how Myungjun felt about such deep, dark secrets being revealed to the both of them.

Still, Myungjun remained resolute in his defense of Jinwoo. He shook his head and moved back from the embrace. “You were curious, that’s all. And being curious is fine. I should learn not to yell.”

“No. Yell all you want. Yell at me if I make you upset again. Yell if I frustrate you. Don’t hold in your anger, okay? You need to let it out.”

Myungjun pursed his lips, but he soon released another smile, all signs of his previous anger gone. “We’ll see,” he murmured, which Jinwoo knew was as much of an agreement as he would ever receive. “But now I want you to study, and I’ll study with you, okay?”

Jinwoo nodded his head. “Okay.”

He found it very difficult to study, however. All of the words in his book seemed to run together. Jinwoo read over the same sentence at least twenty times before he pushed that book aside and turned to a different one. He encountered the same problem there, unfortunately, and his mind began to wander.

He had never had an issue with Myungjun being made in a factory. It was an interesting concept, and he sometimes wondered if that was why Myungjun’s blood was blue, but it never once bothered him. It clearly bothered poor Myungjun, however, who looked on with envy when he saw a child clinging to their parents. The first time he met Dongmin’s mother, he wouldn’t say anything for the entire day; he later told Jinwoo it was because he wanted to cry. He  _ longed _ for a family, for a mother and father who created him in love. Yet this entire time, he was adamant that he had no such thing.

Then what did his new memory mean? Why would he have forgotten being raised in a home with a mother? Jinwoo still thought it was something his subconscious could have given him, something his brain wanted to implement to quell off the sadness and pain in his heart. But was that possible? And why  _ now _ , so suddenly, when he had been sad around mothers for the year he had been on Earth?

Jinwoo glanced over at Myungjun, who was scribbling down Hangul, eyes narrowed in concentration as he sounded the words out on his tongue. 

He knew there would always be mysteries surrounding Myungjun’s strange past. He was an alien from a different solar system; obviously there was to be stuff that Jinwoo would never have the privilege of knowing. 

But he  _ wanted _ to know. His greed to learn more was consuming him, and it was with great reluctance that he forced his attention back onto his schoolwork.

One day, perhaps, he would know, but only on Myungjun’s terms.

He had to be content with that.

*:;,．★ ～☆・:.,;* *:;,．★ ～☆・:.,;* *:;,．★ ～☆・:.,;* *:;,．★ ～☆・:.,;*

With each passing day came more and more studying. Jinwoo’s study group met up more often, including twice at his apartment, where Jinwoo provided a couple of snacks and a clean table to work on.

Myungjun picked up more shifts on those two days, and when he came home, he smiled awkwardly to the study group before heading down the hallway.

Inyoung watched him on the first day, and she asked, “Is that your roommate?”

Jinwoo glanced up from his phone. Myungjun was texting him from the safety of their room, a weird mix of heart and animal emoticons. “Yeah,” he replied, sending his own heart emojis back to Myungjun. He longed to leave his group and go plant as many kisses on Myungjun’s face as he could, but he wouldn’t move. Not yet, not when his friends were likely to hear. 

“Isn’t this a one-bedroom apartment, though?” Inyoung asked.

The other two in the group seemed very uninterested in the conversation. They had tuned Inyoung out and were focused on their textbooks.

Jinwoo nodded his head, having already formed a lie a long time ago in case someone were to ask. “Neither of us have much money so this was all we could afford.”

“Oh.” Inyoung hummed slightly. She seemed to be considering her next words, and Jinwoo regarded her warily. How much did she know? How much did she  _ think _ she knew? 

Instead of asking more questions and digging deeper into Jinwoo’s personal life, she simply asked, “Is anyone else jealous of art students? All they have to do is draw pictures.”

Jinwoo closed his eyes briefly, thanking the stars above she hadn’t questioned him further. “I used to be a theater major,” he commented, and with a laugh he added, “Our exams were super easy compared to this.”

Myungjun sent him another text, a list of moon emojis. Jinwoo smiled. There was a full moon. Myungjun would have noticed, of course, and so Jinwoo texted back a quick,  _ Pretty! Like you! _ He hoped Myungjun would understand. Sometimes Myungjun would use the text-to-speech option in order to comprehend whatever Hangul he couldn’t quite figure out.

They hadn’t discussed Myungjun’s mother any further. It appeared Myungjun hadn’t spoken about his memory to anyone else, either. Dongmin and Bin were unaware, and Sanha had only mentioned, “Myungjun seems spacier than usual,” but had no inclination as to what it could be. Jinwoo wished that he didn’t have exams creeping up. He wished he could take more time out of his day to listen to whatever his boyfriend needed, to sit with him and to comfort him and to be with him.

Inyoung shook his arm, and Jinwoo was pulled by his thoughts. “Huh?” he asked smartly.

She snorted. “I said, I forgot you used to be a theater major. Why did you switch, again?”

“Oh, you know.” Jinwoo cleared his throat and looked at his notes. “Job opportunities are better in the sciences.” 

His phone dinged. Myungjun had texted again, a couple of heart emojis for a second time, along with some of the Hangul he  _ did _ know:  _ I love you Jinwoo! _

Jinwoo tried (and failed) to hide another smile.

“Who’s that?” Inyoung asked. She blinked. “Is it a girl?”

“No.” Jinwoo pocketed his phone. Inyoung stared at him, her gaze a little too curious for Jinwoo’s liking. He had to come up with yet another lie, so he blurted out, “Just my cousin. Little cousin. He likes to text me good night messages.”

His lie worked. Another girl in his group cooed and even Inyoung seemed pleased enough with that answer. 

Jinwoo sometimes wondered about Inyoung. She was a little pushy and constantly alert if Jinwoo was ever on his phone. While she was a great friend, he couldn’t help but feel annoyed by her sometimes, and this was definitely one of those times.

He wanted to be with  _ Myungjun _ . He didn’t want to be here.

“We should hurry it up, though,” he said, smiling brightly and pointing down to his book. “I’m getting tired, and I have to be up early for another class tomorrow morning.”

It wasn’t necessarily a lie, so he didn’t feel any guilt for saying it. Besides, his brain felt like mush. He wasn’t sure how much more information he would be able to obtain. 

But they still had so much to study. Jinwoo’s focus wavered in and out with every turned page. He found his mind often straying to Myungjun’s parentage, and he was constantly brought back by Inyoung shaking his shoulder over and over again. He felt bad for his classmates; he felt worse for Myungjun, stuck alone in their bedroom and likely stewing over such strange memories. 

Jinwoo wished astronomy was easier for him to grasp. He wished he could become a natural at it, a genius in his field. He wished he could develop a spaceship that would take him all the way to Planet Seven, where he could then hold all of those damn aliens accountable for abusing his boyfriend in such horrid, drastic ways. He wished he could regain all the good memories that Myungjun had lost; he wished he could make up for all the bad memories that Myungjun had retained.

None of that could happen overnight, though. If Jinwoo wanted to make it to avenge his boyfriend, then he would have to study hard. He would have to become the best astronomer ever. He would have to open his mind and expand his knowledge and become an expert in the field.

So he hunkered down and put forth as much effort as possible, though the clock was nearing midnight and though he longed to be with Myungjun.

He’d fix things. He’d fix everything. And it all rested in his stupid college exams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hit me up on my twitter page [@vonseal](https://twitter.com/thevonseal) for spoilers and general nonsense.
> 
> also, if you don't follow me on twitter or if you don't have a twitter, please head over to my twitter for information about a ficfest! you can request prompts and/or claim prompts for fic writing. it'll be a lot of fun and i hope everyone can join!


	6. the romantic mountain trip that jinwoo isn't part of

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it feels like forever since i've updated but it's only been a bit over a month. REGARDLESS pls enjoy. (it's mostly a filler chapter)

It was just a weekend trip, Bin had stressed. It was really nothing much to worry over. They would be there and back again before Jinwoo even noticed they were gone.

And Jinwoo, folding laundry and listening to the pitch with frustration, could only grumble, “I’ll always notice when he’s gone.”

“The amount of time you two spend together is ridiculous, anyway,” Bin scoffed with a slight roll of his eyes. “Maybe you both just need some time apart. I think it’d be good for you.”

“It wouldn’t! Not right now - Myungjun is figuring out stuff about his past, stuff he’s never told me before!” Jinwoo shoved some underwear into the top drawer of his dresser, scowling as Bin lounged about on his bed. “It’d be best if he stayed here so we could work everything out, right?”

Bin pursed his lips. “ _ Well _ ,” he began, and Jinwoo instantly bristled.

“I don’t know why I’m listening to you, anyway. You’re not one for  _ figuring things out _ . You’re far too proactive to wait around for something to happen.”

“Sometimes you need to make it happen,” Bin pointed out. “But, look, Myungjun is overwhelmed right now. I think sitting with you is a bit stifling; he knows what you want to hear and he isn’t sure how to tell you that he doesn’t  _ know _ anything. He won’t know anything, either, if he just stays home all weekend and watches you study for this exam. And you’ll probably invite over your friends, which will suffocate him even more.”

Jinwoo grabbed some shirts. “My friends don’t...don’t suffocate him,” he defended, but his words were weak. Even Bin could tell, and Bin raised an eyebrow at that.

“He doesn’t like them.”

“Well…”

“From what he mentions, they don’t seem to like him, either.”

“They don’t  _ know _ him.” Jinwoo thought of Inyoung, who was definitely a more overbearing presence than Jinwoo would have liked for her to be. He clicked his tongue up against the roof of his mouth as he thought over Bin’s proposition. A weekend away to the mountains, just the two of them — just Bin and Myungjun. It was the romantic getaway Jinwoo longed for but couldn’t conjure up the time to have, and  _ Bin _ was going to do it in his place. It seemed like a joke, but when Bin offered up ideas, they were hardly ever  _ jokes _ .

“Regardless,” Bin continued, cutting through Jinwoo’s thoughts, “I don’t think Myungjun very well wants to sit around while you study hard with your friends and he’s left alone in the bedroom to brood.” 

Jinwoo groaned and tipped his head back briefly, cursing the stars above for putting such a sudden divide in his relationship with Myungjun. Things had been going  _ so well _ , too, and now Myungjun was confused and unsure and wanted to leave his side and stay with Bin for two nights.

“You know,” Jinwoo started, a bit slow with his words, as he always was when he was thinking, “I’m going to ask him to marry me.”

Bin gasped and sat up in bed. “When?”

“I don’t know. I’ve had the ring in my drawer for...for a while.”

The response was instant; Bin scurried over to Jinwoo’s underwear drawer and rifled through until he pulled out a bulging sock. “You keep it in this nasty sock?” Bin pondered as he grabbed the small, velvet box.

Jinwoo huffed. “There’s not too many other places to hide it. Myungjun’s curious; I’m worried he’ll tear the apartment apart looking for something stupid and end up finding that.”

Bin cracked open the box to gaze at the ring inside. His expression bordered on disappointed. “It’s...plain.”

“I’m poor.”

“Well, I’m sure Myungjun will love it, anyway. He loves everything you give him.” Bin stuffed the ring back into the sock and returned it to its rightful place. “I don’t see what this has to do with our mountain trip, though. You weren’t going to propose this weekend, right?”

“I guess not,” Jinwoo mumbled, though he wished he had said  _ yes _ . If he said  _ yes _ , then Bin would likely back off and Jinwoo would be free to spend the time with Myungjun.

Well, when he wasn’t with his study group, he could spend the time with Myungjun.

“Then it’s settled. Myungjun and I are going to the mountains this weekend and there’s not a damn thing you can say that will stop us. Besides, I’ve already told Myungjun and he’s super excited.”

Myungjun, still on shift at the cafe, would likely be over the moon by the time he arrived home. Jinwoo felt bitter, already thinking of how much fun Myungjun would have with Bin.

Without him.

“Does Dongmin know?” Jinwoo asked, trying to make some sort of conversation.

“Does-? Of course he knows. He’s my boyfriend.”

“He doesn’t care?”

“Nah, he’s probably excited to get me out of the apartment. He’ll be able to watch his boring American shows. You know, he thinks this one guy in this one show is hot. He isn’t. He has an oddly-shaped nose. And he smiles like a villain. He might be the villain, actually, I’m not entirely certain. I can’t tell.”

Jinwoo wondered how Dongmin and Bin got along so well when they were complete opposites. He also wondered how they were able to keep jealousy out of their lives to such a degree that Bin could go off to the mountains with a friend and Dongmin could sit around and pine after American actors.

As if sensing Jinwoo’s confusion, Bin grinned wickedly and said, “We’ve known each other for a while, Jinwoo, and with age comes a certain level of trust. That, and the sex is so good that I wouldn’t leave him even if I wanted to.”

“You’re going to rub off on Myungjun, oh my god,” Jinwoo moaned, though he couldn’t help but wonder if this would be good for Myungjun. It wasn’t often he went off on his own, without Jinwoo by his side. He wasn’t a child, and Jinwoo knew better than to continue coddling him like one. Perhaps if he just let Bin and Myungjun go to the mountains, they would learn to trust each other more, and they would become even closer for it.

So, resolutely, he ordered, “Make sure he packs his toothbrush, and buy him one if he doesn’t.”

Bin’s wicked grin turned to one of excitement, and when he gathered Jinwoo in a bone-crushing hug, even Jinwoo couldn’t help but smile.

He wanted Myungjun to live the normal life any other human would. He wanted Myungjun to experience everything that their world had to offer. If that meant sitting back and doing schoolwork while his boyfriend and close friend got a chance to go off and explore some pretty mountains, then so be it. Jinwoo could sacrifice his own selfish tendencies for Myungjun’s happiness.

And, indeed, Myungjun was truly ecstatic with the decision. He and Bin had apparently planned out all that they would be doing. They had gotten a place to stay, too, a private bedroom in a cute house. There were restaurants to visit and temples to see and Myungjun packed early in his excitement.

(He remembered his toothbrush, which had been Jinwoo’s only stipulation.)

Then Myungjun was gone when Friday rolled around, and Jinwoo was stuck at home with no one but his study group for company.

He decided he didn’t care much for his study group. Now that Bin had pointed out Myungjun’s reluctance to befriend them, he began to notice little things that irritated him. Yeonha kept flipping her hair back, Kyungho kept stepping out for a smoke, and Inyoung wanted to see his bedroom.

“Why?” Jinwoo asked, looking up from his phone (he had been distracted, waiting for Myungjun or Bin to text, and had yet to receive anything — he supposed this contributed to his frustrations). 

Inyoung laughed and shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know! Just because. You’ve never given us a full house tour, and I’d love to see how the great and magnificent Park Jinwoo sleeps!”

Yeonha rolled her eyes and Kyungho snorted as he returned to his textbook.

“Oh, please,” Inyoung scoffed, “you two can’t tell me that you aren’t as interested as I am. Jinwoo’s a mystery sometimes!”

“We’re really not interested,” Yeonha confirmed, and she glanced at Jinwoo. “Besides, you’re making him uncomfortable.”

“I’m not!” Inyoung argued, but she at least stopped asking to look into his bedroom. “By the way, where’s your roommate? That kid with the brown hair?”

Once more, Jinwoo checked his phone. He thought it vibrated. He could have sworn it vibrated. But, nope, there was nothing there, and he let the screen dim. “Uh,” he started, momentarily distracted. “Oh, he went to the mountains with his friend. They’re away for the weekend.”

Inyoung nodded, as if the information was greatly appreciated. “So we can stay for longer, right?” she asked. “You always make us leave early because you want your roommate to get some sleep.”

Jinwoo always made them leave early because he always wanted to stick by Myungjun’s side. The longer his study group stuck around, the less time he would get to cuddle with Myungjun before they went to sleep.

He couldn’t very well say that, however, so he just gave a nervous laugh and shrugged his shoulders as Kyungho rolled his eyes.

“I don’t wanna be here all night,” Kyungho threatened. “Jinwoo, you’d best kick us out like you always do, even if Myungjun isn’t here.”

At least Kyungho and Yeonha called Myungjun by his name. Inyoung usually stuck with the title of  _ your roommate _ . Jinwoo decided that was another thing to irk him tonight. The list truly was growing.

“Don’t worry, I’ll kick everyone out on time,” Jinwoo assured Kyungho. “I’m not feeling super hot, anyway. I’d rather sleep then look at these stupid equations.”

He’d rather gaze longingly at his phone and flip through old texts from Myungjun then he would hang out with Kyungho and Yeonha and Inyoung.

Fortunately, it was easy enough to convince them to leave. Inyoung gave the most fight, and even that was a half-hearted, “Are you sure you don’t wanna unwind and watch a movie or drama or something?” but Kyungho was quick to drag her away, chastising her all the while.

And then, left alone in silence, Jinwoo could brood.

He got bored of brooding after five minutes, though, and ended up calling Myungjun’s phone, lonely and needy and sleepy.

Myungjun answered after a few rings. His voice was light and airy and he slurred his words as he giggled out a loud, “Hello?”

Jinwoo sighed. “Hey, Junnie. How’s it going?”

Myungjun laughed again, as if Jinwoo had told some sort of hilarious joke. 

“Oh, god,” Jinwoo grumbled. “You’re drunk, aren’t you?”

“Drunk?” Myungjun repeated. He hummed a little tune, and then suddenly exclaimed, “Jinwoo! We made it safely and we are in the home in the mountains! Guess what? We’re going to go hiking tomorrow! And then there’s a temple to look at. A religious site. A site for religions. The religion people might be there, maybe. I’ve learned about your religion.”

“My religion?”

“You  _ are _ Korean, so there is a religion all Koreans must follow.”

“My family’s Catholic.”

But then Myungjun’s voice was muffled, as if he was talking to someone else. Jinwoo sighed.  _ Bin _ . “What’s the religion?” Myungjun asked. His hand might have been over the bottom of the phone, as if trying to stop sound from traveling. Jinwoo decided not to point out the flawed gesture.

Bin said something inaudible, and Myungjun returned quick enough. “Buddhism! You’re Buddhist, Jinwoo!”

“I’m not really,” Jinwoo replied, smiling despite himself. “Are you Buddhist, Myungjun?”

Myungjun giggled again, and then whispered, “I’m an alien. Not Buddhist.”

“My mistake. So sorry, sweetie.”

“Sweetie!” Myungjun gasped out. “ _ You _ are my sweetie! Not me!  _ You! _ ”

Jinwoo wasn’t sure if he could argue that. Besides, he quite liked being called  _ Myungjun’s sweetie _ . It made his heart skip a beat and he grinned widely as he settled onto his couch, thinking of how he could get Myungjun to repeat that when he was more sober. (It wouldn’t be hard — Myungjun loved to shower Jinwoo with adorations.)

“I am your sweetie,” Jinwoo agreed, and he couldn’t wipe the dumb smile off his face. “Let me speak to Bin, okay? I have a couple questions to ask him.”

Myungjun cheerfully agreed and the phone was passed over to Bin, who seemed a lot more sober (fortunately) and a lot more willing to talk in coherent sentences. “Hey, Jinwoo!”

“Hey. Why’s Myungjun drunk?”

“Because he drank too much alcohol. We had a lot of fun; went to a bar and everything! He got some mixed drinks, which he’s never had before, and some girls flirted with him. It was super cute.”

Jinwoo grit his teeth down, but before he could lambast Bin for taking his alien boyfriend to a bar, Bin added, “They flirted with me, too. They flirted  _ more _ with me, especially when Myungjun kept informing them he had a cute boyfriend.”

Myungjun had always been so much more open about their relationship. He was  _ proud _ to be Jinwoo’s boyfriend, and he wanted everyone to know. Jinwoo thought about how closed off he had become, how he wouldn’t even tell his close study friends that Myungjun was something more than a roommate. He felt a pang of guilt, but he brushed it aside to focus on the situation at hand.

“Why did you let him drink so much?” Jinwoo asked. “Wasn’t it supposed to be a nice, relaxing trip?”

“Oh, please. Do you really think I’d be a boring host? He wanted to try some drinks, and I let him try some drinks.”

“I don’t know if his liver is different from ours, though. It could be—”

“He’s fine,” Bin sighed. “Don’t be such a downer. He’s having a lot of fun! Besides, he’s basically human. There’s not much about him that’s necessarily alien.”

Jinwoo gave a small huff but decided he might as well trust Bin. Even if Bin could be a little reckless sometimes, he surely had Myungjun’s best interests in mind. 

He chose a different topic, and asked, “Has he spoken about...his past? His family? Anything like that?”

“Nope,” Bin replied. “And I won’t push it. He might bring it up—” Jinwoo could hear Myungjun ask,  _ who brings what up? _ but Bin ignored him and continued, “—but maybe tomorrow when we’re in a serene location I’ll mention it.” 

(“What’s  _ serene _ , Bin? What’s that? Is Jinwoo still on? Tell him I love him!”)

Jinwoo tipped his head back, staring further up at the ceiling, and felt the loneliness wash over him. Myungjun seemed so far away, and though they were apart for only a short while, Jinwoo found himself missing him more than ever.

“Hand the phone back to Myungjun,” he demanded.

Bin scoffed. “No  _ bye Bin _ or  _ be safe Bin _ or  _ sleep _ —”

“I called to talk to Myungjun, not you.”

Bin sighed loudly, obnoxiously, but he handed Myungjun the phone without any more arguments. Myungjun seemed to fumble with it briefly before he asked, “Jinwoo? Are you still on?”

“Yeah.”

“I miss you!” Myungjun cooed. “I miss you a whole bunch, Jinnie! We need to go on a trip! A mountain trip! We need to go to the mountains and visit a religious temple and hike. Can we do that soon? Can we do that after you finish your exams?”

Though he felt lonely and though he missed Myungjun so dreadfully, Jinwoo couldn’t help but smile and nod his head. “Yeah,” he replied. “I’d love that. I want to take you everywhere, Myungjun.”

“Even…” Myungjun took a deep breath; Jinwoo was certain that Myungjun had simply forgotten what he was going to say. He got back on track soon enough, and continued, “Even to your moon?”

“Well—”

“The Earth only has  _ one moon _ . I’m surprised! We had three, and I’ve seen other planets with more. Why do we only have one? Do you think we can add another moon?”

Jinwoo laughed. “How would we add another moon, babe?”

“You’re the one in school, not me!”

“Good point.” Jinwoo yawned. It was late and he was exhausted after his long day. But he wanted to stay up for as long as possible, to keep up his discussion with Myungjun. Before he could say anything else (and dive into his ideas on how they could make a new moon, all of which bordered on ridiculous), Myungjun suddenly spoke up again.

“I’m going to sleep! Night, Jinwoo!”

Before Jinwoo could say anything, the call ended.

He blinked, still staring up at the ceiling, and then checked on his cell phone. Sure enough, it was back on the home screen. Myungjun had been quick with that, and Jinwoo found himself left with even more frustration than he had been when he started the call.

He was still so lonely.

But it was bedtime, wasn’t it? He pulled himself off the coach with a groan and stumbled to his room, where he could bask in the emptiness of his bed. Truly, it was  _ so empty _ without Myungjun by his side. Myungjun, who stole the sheets and woke far too early and cuddled even when it was hot outside.

Jinwoo collapsed onto his bed, still in jeans and a t-shirt, and sighed heavily, breathing in the scent Myungjun had left behind.

He could do this. It was only two nights and then Myungjun would be back home. Two nights, and then Myungjun would be in his arms.

Two nights and then perhaps he’d learn more about Myungjun’s past.

He brought his phone up again and sent one last text message before he closed his eyes.

_ [to: bin] get jun some hangover soup tomorrow morning or else i will personally come over there to give you a black eye. _

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hit me up on my twitter page [@vonseal](https://twitter.com/thevonseal) for spoilers and general nonsense.


	7. myungjun is drunk and bin is nosey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im horrible at updating these days but i shall try harder. enjoy the switch in POV (i dont do it often but it was needed here)

They were only at the rented house for a few minutes before Bin grabbed his arm and whisked him to the door.

“We need to unpack!” Myungjun exclaimed. Jinwoo taught him that; always unpack when visiting a new place. Jinwoo liked things organized, and he liked vacations and trips to be slow. Unpacking was a chance to unwind and relax before getting caught up in the whirlwind of adventuring. Myungjun had gotten used to folding shirts and setting up nightstands and checking under the beds for any ghosts or monsters (which Jinwoo wholeheartedly believed in). 

Bin was different, though, and Bin simply laughed as he slipped his tennis shoes back on and gestured for Myungjun to do the same.

Myungjun pursed his lips but followed through. This wasn’t a trip with Jinwoo, so he could afford to be a little lax, right? This was Bin; Bin was spontaneous and outrageous. If they were to go out and leave their suitcases on their beds, then so be it. Myungjun would abide by the laws of Bin’s trip.

They locked the door and hurried outside, where Myungjun finally asked, “Where are we going?”

“There was a bar close by that looked really cool. I wanted to check it out.”

A  _ bar _ . Myungjun knew what that was. He had learned earlier that his body suffered the effects of alcohol greater than that of Jinwoo, or Dongmin, or any other of their friends. Jinwoo always comforted him, though, when Myungjun became drunk after one drink.  _ You just aren’t used to it, _ Jinwoo would coo, kissing his forehead,  _ so it’s fine _ .

“Should I be drinking?” Myungjun asked, worried. “What if I get alcohol poisoning and die?”

“You watch far too many documentaries,” Bin pointed out as they walked down the road. “I won’t let that happen to you. Trust me.”

And Myungjun  _ did _ trust Bin. He trusted Bin almost as much as he trusted Jinwoo. Bin had only lied to him once before.  _ You won’t get scared at this haunted house, trust me _ , he had said, and Myungjun had cried pathetically in the middle of the dumb haunted house. The dressed characters had to comfort him until Jinwoo was able to find him again. It was rather embarrassing.

At least Jinwoo made up for it by pushing Bin into a puddle and staining his nice jeans with mud.

“One drink,” Myungjun finally gave in, nodding his head resolutely. “I’ll only have one drink.”

But he ended up having  _ more _ than one. It was two, wasn’t it? Or maybe three. He couldn’t exactly tell. They weren’t very strong, fortunately, and so he was able to talk through the fog that clouded his mind.

“I love Jinwoo,” he stated. 

Bin smiled fondly at him. “Oh, don’t I know it. You’ve told me, like, a thousand times today.”

“Have I?” Myungjun didn’t quite remember. “Well, I do. I love him. I really, truly do.”

“I’m quite aware. Myungjun, you’re so cute when you’re wasted.”

Myungjun understood what Bin was saying, but he didn’t think he comprehended it fully. He tapped his head and wrinkled his nose. “My chip might be messed up.”

“Hm?” Bin blinked. “Chip?”

“I cannot access it, but it’s there. Somewhere.” Myungjun felt around on his head.

“What chip?”

“Translator,” Myungjun clarified. He understood, he  _ knew _ he understood, but even then, some of Bin’s words sounded fuzzy. They sounded like a different language. “We’re speaking Korean, right?” he questioned.

“Yeah. You have a translator in your head?” Bin scooted closer to Myungjun, eyes wide with amazement. He had four eyes. Myungjun had to narrow his own eyes to stop seeing double. “Is that how you can understand everything we say? Is that why you can speak Korean but not write it?”

Myungjun nodded, pleased that Bin was able to pick up on everything. “I, uh,” he started, pushing his drink aside, “I have a chip. It translates everything and I’m able to speak any language I want to, as long as it’s a real, established language. I don’t know how it works, though.”

“Did you speak something other than Korean on your old planet?” Bin asked.

Myungjun briefly wondered if they were able to talk about such a sensitive subject in a bar. However, it seemed that no one was paying attention, and so Myungjun continued the conversation. 

“Yes,” he confirmed. “Language Seven. That’s what...that’s what we called it.” He burped and then added, “But I spoke Korean up there, too.”

“Why? If there was already one language, why speak another one?”

Myungjun wasn’t sure how to answer that question. It was a  _ very _ good question. It was something he had never thought of before, and now that he was faced with such an inquiry, he didn’t know  _ what _ to think. His past wasn’t something he reflected on often. It was riddled with horror, terrible enough for him to push it all out of his mind. Now Bin wanted him to pick through some memories and figure this out?

He scoffed and propped his elbows up on the table. “I don’t know.”

“Really?”

“It’s…” Myungjun squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn’t figure it out, but somehow he thought of Jinwoo.

He spoke Korean to Jinwoo, didn’t he? But Jinwoo wasn’t on Planet Seven. Jinwoo had remained on Earth his entire life. Surely Myungjun’s memory was playing tricks on him, and he opened his eyes as a scowl fell across his face.

“Jinwoo?” he wondered to Bin.

Bin stared at him. “What about Jinwoo?”

“I...I don’t know. It has to do with him.” It was all so confusing. Myungjun groaned before reaching for his drink again. Bin slid it into his outstretched arms, and Myungjun said, “I keep having dreams where he’s with me on my planet.”

The dreams were weird enough, but now that Jinwoo’s supposed clone was seeping into his memories and his waking life, Myungjun was growing frustrated. It meant something, and he  _ knew _ it meant something, but he couldn’t pinpoint exactly  _ what _ it meant. 

He felt the phone in his pocket vibrate, and he slowly tugged it out, glancing down at the caller.

“Jinwoo!” he gasped, and hurriedly answered it.

Talking to Jinwoo helped to brush away some of the irritation piling up in his mind. He felt refreshed, rejuvenated, and he couldn’t help but fall in love all over again. But he  _ always _ fell in love when talking to Jinwoo. 

At some point during the conversation, Bin had nudged him and whispered, “Let’s go back to the house — I’m sleepy.”

Myungjun abruptly ended the call. He could contact Jinwoo again in the morning, when he wasn’t drunk.

As Bin helped him down the sidewalk, Myungjun yawned and leaned on his friend. “Bin?”

“Yeah?”

“Jinwoo wasn’t with me on Planet Seven. He was here, right? He was with you and Dongmin and Minhyuk and Sanha.”

“Right.”

“But…” Myungjun huffed and stumbled across a crack in the sidewalk. Bin righted him. “But I feel like he was with  _ me _ the entire time. I feel like...I feel like he was by my side, not with you. But that’s not accurate, and I know it isn’t.”

Bin stayed silent for a little bit, and Myungjun wondered if his translator had messed up. Did he say something in a different language? He opened his mouth to test it, but  _ finally _ Bin spoke.

“You’ve lost a lot of your memories, haven’t you?”

Myungjun closed his mouth, glum, and shrugged his shoulders. “I guess.”

“Is there a reason why?”

That question was definitely confusing. Surely it  _ had _ to be a translation issue. Myungjun tapped his forehead, wondering just where his microchip was, but Bin grabbed his hand in order to stop him.

“Do you think you forced yourself to forget all of the bad things that happened?” Bin asked.

Myungjun had watched plenty of documentaries since his arrival to Earth. Several of them talked about loss of memories. Sometimes this loss was caused by accidents, bumping one’s head or getting shot and unwillingly losing access to certain thoughts. Sometimes this loss was caused by an age-related disease. And, sometimes, it was simply pushed away, too traumatic to ever remember.

If he had to guess, Myungjun would go with the latter option.

“Oh, god,” he muttered, rubbing at his cheeks in an effort to warm them up. The temperature outside was cold and Myungjun was happy he wore such a thick coat. “I don’t know, Binnie. I have no idea where my memories went. I remember some stuff.”

“Like what?”

“Like...I remember the work I did. I remember how they would kill workers who slacked off. I remember escaping. I remember…”

He remembered his mother.

He fell silent and pursed his lips, his drunken mind trying its best to rifle through all of his thoughts in a semi-coherent manner.

“I had a mom,” he whispered. Bin leaned closer to hear. “At one point, I had a mom. She was...I remember she was beautiful. And she treated me well. But I  _ couldn’t _ have had a mom. I was made. I was a worker. She was born naturally, which meant she couldn’t have been  _ my _ mom.”

Bin draped an arm over his shoulder. “Tell me about her. What did she look like?”

Myungjun thought. “Blue skin,” he commented. “Tall. Her nose was flat and she had a small mouth. She had four eyes, a bit higher up than our eyes are situated on our faces. And her fingers were long.” Myungjun glanced down at his own fingers and wiggled them. “Longer than mine. Way longer.”

He looked up at Bin, who raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Your mom was an alien?”

“ _ You’re _ an alien,” Myungjun pointed out. He yawned again and closed his eyes for a second, tired from the long walk. “Workers all looked similar. We had different characteristics, but we all looked like Earthlings do. The others on our planet, the natives, were like her. Except she was much more beautiful than any of the men who owned the mines and made us work.” He could see her clearly in his mind, wiping his cheeks free of tears and planting kisses onto his forehead. He was loved, if even for a short time, and he couldn’t figure out how he ever ended up in such a situation.

“Were you born to her?” Bin asked, “Or did she adopt you?”

“Adopt—” Myungjun trailed off and opened his eyes again. He wasn’t born; that much he knew. He had lived with the other workers. He remembered being young and having no one around to dry his tears. But his mother had changed all of that, hadn’t she? Which meant she came later.

“I guess I was adopted,” he admitted. “But I didn’t...I didn’t stay there.”

“Why not?”

Bin asked too many questions, each one more confusing than the last. Myungjun was unsure what he should say, so he ended up shrugging his shoulders. They were close to the house, at least, which meant Bin’s questioning had to come to an end.

Fortunately, Bin seemed to understand what Myungjun’s lack of responses meant. He led his friend up the steps and helped him to slip out of his shoes. When Myungjun unceremoniously flopped onto a bed, Bin shook his shoulder. 

“At least get dressed,” he demanded, pulling pajamas out of Myungjun’s suitcase. “You’ll feel better once you’re dressed.”

Myungjun wanted to complain and tell Bin he felt fine as was, but Bin appeared adamant. He waved the pajamas in Myungjun’s face until Myungjun groggily snatched them away and stumbled off to the bathroom, mumbling all the while about  _ Stupid Boyfriend Bin _ .

He  _ did _ feel more comfortable, definitely, in sweats and a long-sleeved shirt. Bin was already changed, as well, and when they both curled up under their respective covers, Myungjun thought of Jinwoo.

Jinwoo had a mother who loved him. Jinwoo had a father who loved him. Jinwoo had never once experienced having no one at all to calm you down or hold you close. Even with his parents further away, he still had friends who would pop in and ask,  _ How are you, Jinwoo? _ Jinwoo was poor but he always had a roof over his head and food in his fridge. He could go to school and choose which path to take in life. He had hardships, but they made him stronger, and at the end of the day, he hardly ever risked death.

And yet Jinwoo shared all of his privileges in life with  _ him _ . Jinwoo opened his arms to Myungjun and accepted him. What little he had, he gave to Myungjun. He showered Myungjun in all the love Myungjun had yearned for and allowed his close friends to do the same. He wanted Myungjun’s life to be good, and he did everything in his power to make it so.

Perhaps his brain was a bit heavy with alcohol and perhaps his translator chip couldn’t work through his drunkenness, but Myungjun couldn’t stop thinking of just how much he adored Jinwoo.

“Jinwoo has a mom,” he muttered.

He didn’t think Bin would still be awake, but his friend was quick to answer. “We all have moms. It’s the way Earth works.” And then, gently, he added, “By your own admission,  _ you _ had a mom.”

Myungjun shook his head. “No,” he argued, “no, I wasn’t born. I was made. Workers do not have parents. It’s just not how it’s done.”

“Even if she wasn’t your biological mother, she was still your mom. Adoption is a totally valid method of having children.” Bin propped himself up on his elbows and stared over at Myungjun. Though the room was dark, Myungjun was still able to see him clearly. There was enough light flooding in from the windows for that. Besides, Jinwoo had always claimed that Myungjun’s eyesight was fantastic compared to anyone else he knew.

“Think,” Bin ordered. “Tell me how you were adopted.”

The memory was somewhere in the back of his mind, suppressed and hidden. If Myungjun searched hard enough, he knew he could access it. He squeezed his eyes shut and let himself drift through his subconsciousness, rifling this way and that, drunkenly stumbling along until he was finally able to grasp onto something that might offer some answers.

“There was a man,” he murmured, burying his face into his pillow. “A man who lorded over us. And he...he took me one night. He stole me and took me to his house, away from the mines, and my mom cleaned me up and we were a family, I think. They taught me different things. I don’t remember now, but they taught me stuff. I was young, and they treated me like a child and not like a worker.”

The room was silent. Myungjun could hear the ticking of some clock nearby and he tuned in, listening to the steady rhythm. His mind felt at ease, and now that he had a grasp on his memories, things were less murky. Slowly but surely, he was uncovering his past.

It was liberating.

“What happened then?” Bin asked him.

Myungjun’s fingers clenched around his blanket. That memory wasn’t as clear as the others. When he reached for it, his brain refused.  _ Don’t get hurt _ , his heart reminded him.  _ Don’t look. Don’t get hurt _ .

It was painful, then. It was terrible, then. Dare he peek into such a tortured part of his past? Should he force himself to live through it again? He had finally found peace and happiness; why did he need to release the demons he kept chained inside?

“I…” he started. He blinked away tears and felt ashamed for crying.  _ Weak, weak, weak _ , he chastised himself. None of the other workers cried much, if ever. Why was he  _ different? _

He closed his eyes and rubbed at his face. Memories flitted past. It was night and it was dark and it was cold. He was young, shaking and trembling and begging. A long-fingered hand gave his head a pat.  _ Quiet _ , the hand whispered to him.  _ Don’t make noise _ .

And so he hadn’t. He had bit his own hand, his own, filthy, worker’s hand, breaking the skin on his knuckles to keep from crying out, and the hand left his head. He lost the slight warmth he had been given, and he did nothing but sit in his tiny home, surrounded by other workers who remained fast asleep, watching his father walk away.

He opened his eyes again. Bin was staring at him, concerned, and Myungjun just whispered, “I got it.”

“You got it?”

“I, um...yeah.” He sniffled and rehashed the memory in his mind, the awful, horrible memory. “I was taken from the mines by a worker. My dad. He had a wife. My mom. I lived with them. Don’t know how long. A few months. Not too long. Then they dropped me back off at the mines. They were sad. Told me to stay silent, lest someone learn what they had done. Maybe they were in trouble for stealing me, I...I don’t know.”

Bin’s lips were turned downward, into a frown. Myungjun didn’t like such a serious look on him.

“I’m going to forget about it,” he promised. “I’ll push it aside. Tomorrow, hopefully, I won’t remember a thing, and I can return to—”

“Do you want to forget your family?”

Myungjun blinked. His cheeks were still wet, but at least he had stopped crying. “Huh?”

“They were your family, if only for a bit. I think...I think it’s important to remember. They loved you, and you...you loved them, didn’t you?” Bin reached over and placed a hand on Myungjun’s head. Myungjun was reminded of the man, of his father, and the last time they had ever seen each other. “Let yourself remember,” Bin urged. “If it’s upsetting, I’m here. Jinwoo’s also here for you. We all are. You will never be alone again, alright?”

He knew he wouldn’t be. He had grasped onto these wonderful, lovely people, and they had never given any indication of leaving. Jinwoo, especially, craved him every second of the day. He loved Myungjun, and he said so as often as possible.

If he had Jinwoo, and if he had the others, wasn’t that enough?

He swallowed thickly and closed his eyes again, his alcohol-riddled mind growing exhausted with such prodding and snooping. “Alright,” he agreed, and he felt more tears slip down from the corners of his eyes. He let them continue their descent, however, knowing that he could cry all he wanted. He could remember and he could cry and he was free to do both of those things with the knowledge that he would never again experience such awful tragedies. 

He would remember, and he would continue to search his brain to uncover the truths he had long since stored away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hit me up on my twitter page [@vonseal](https://twitter.com/thevonseal) for spoilers and general nonsense.


	8. so myungjun returns

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> update is mostly useless and is a set-up chapter, so apologies

When Myungjun arrived home, he looked tired. A smile was plastered onto his face, but he yawned as Jinwoo hugged him, and he seemed a bit dazed. 

“Did you give him more alcohol?” Jinwoo asked Bin, who had taken over Jinwoo’s couch and was sipping on some tea.

Bin laughed and shook his head. “Nope. We were just really busy and I think he got exhausted. Though, I’m not sure he slept very well. He was...he was deep in thought about a few things.”

“Like what?” Myungjun had gone to the bathroom and Jinwoo decided now was as good of a time as any to discuss things. He sat beside Bin, trying his best not to appear too eager to learn of any secrets Myungjun might have revealed.

“Things that I think he would be better off discussing with you, not me.” Bin pursed his lips and gave a small hum. “It’s...it’s very interesting, and I think maybe he’s hiding more than he’s told me. He’ll let  _ you _ know, though. He really likes you.”

Jinwoo couldn’t very well deny the jealousy that had been brewing within him all weekend. His boyfriend took a trip with a friend, then told said friend of his deepest, darkest secrets. Even Jinwoo wasn’t aware of what those might be, and he wanted so badly to yell at Bin or the curse at him, or a combination of the two.

Then he reminded himself that this was all for  _ Myungjun _ . His own pride be damned; he wanted Myungjun to come to terms with his past, and if Bin was the catalyst for that then so be it. What mattered now was Myungjun, not Jinwoo and his stupid jealousy.

“Was...was he okay?” Jinwoo asked, keeping his voice low in case Myungjun was listening in.

Bin thought the question over for a few seconds before nodding his head. “As good as he  _ could _ have been. He does have a tragic past, and I’m sure I don’t even know half of it. And…” He glanced to the bathroom door, then whispered, “You’ve triggered something, I think. Even Myungjun isn’t sure what, but you’ve become some sort of stand-in for a lot of his memories.”

Jinwoo paused at that, holding in his breath briefly. Myungjun had asked him earlier about clones.  _ You weren’t on my planet with me, were you? _ he had questioned. Jinwoo had thought before that it must have been a deep memory, something his subconscious wished to keep a secret, and he wondered how he could pull that memory out of the depths of Myungjun’s mind.

He wondered, too, if he would even want that for Myungjun. The past was difficult and Myungjun had suffered greatly. Should he really force Myungjun to relive everything he had sought to escape?

Before he could ask Bin anything else, the bathroom door opened. Myungjun appeared, a smile on his face and the bangs of his hair dripping with water.

“I washed my face,” he explained, noticing Jinwoo’s confusion. “I think I fell asleep and drooled on myself on the car ride home.” He squished himself in the middle of Jinwoo and Bin and instantly turned to hug Jinwoo close, squeezing him for all he was worth and nuzzling into his shoulder. “I missed you!” he cooed.

Despite the concerns floating about in his head, Jinwoo still smiled and wrapped his arms around Myungjun. “I missed you, too!” he responded, happy that at least Myungjun had thought fondly of him during his trip. He supposed that was as much as he wanted for the moment, and he kissed Myungjun’s forehead, smoothing back his dampened hair. “Did you have fun?”

“”When I wasn’t drunk,” Myungjun confirmed, shooting a glare toward Bin, who smiled apologetically. “He made me drink a bunch of alcohol. My head hurt the next morning, and he still made me go hiking to the temple with him!”

“I gave you medicine,” Bin scoffed. “You were fine, anyway. Kept racing me to the top.”

That sure sounded like Myungjun. Jinwoo laughed, thankful that Myungjun’s experience wasn’t ruined by his newly gained memories, at least.

“Did you take pictures?” he asked, truly curious. Myungjun was terrible at taking photographs. He moved too quickly, spurred onward with the thought of exploration, and so his pictures usually came out too blurry to truly distinguish. The only nice photos on his phone were ones he took of Jinwoo. When it came to Jinwoo, he stood still and took his time on each photo.

(Jinwoo had once asked him about it: “Why are all of my pictures so nice and the rest so bad?” 

And Myungjun had responded, “They aren’t  _ bad! _ You just can’t see them well on account of your terrible eyesight.”

Secretly, Jinwoo liked to think that Myungjun took his time when it came to photographing his boyfriend.)

Myungjun nodded his head with enthusiasm. “Lots of pictures. We gotta look through them all, okay?” And then he turned to Bin. “You should probably go home. I want to kiss Jinwoo and makeout with him and maybe have sex and I can’t do that if you’re here.”

Jinwoo blushed, always a bit surprised (and maybe turned on) from Myungjun’s blunt speech. Bin merely chuckled and leaned over to nudge Jinwoo. “You’re getting it tonight,” he teased.

Jinwoo blushed even more. “Get out.”

“Sure. See ya, Jun! It was swell!”

Once Jinwoo had pushed Bin out of his apartment and locked the door behind him (checking it for good measure — it wouldn’t be the first time one of their friends barged in during rather explicit activities), he turned back to Myungjun and sighed. “So...he’s gone.”

Myungjun raised his eyebrows, likely impressed with the urgency in Jinwoo’s actions. “Well,” he murmured, “I have to show you the pictures first. And I have to tell you about my family.”

Jinwoo felt cautious with this situation. He was unsure of how to go about asking questions. Would his curiosity upset Myungjun? Would it be considered insensitive? He knew he had to tread carefully, but  _ how _ carefully?

“You had a whole family?” he asked, returning to the couch.

Myungjun, already scrolling through his photos, nodded his head. “A mom and a dad, at least. Not like Dongmin’s family, or Sanha’s family.” He propped his chin onto his hand and continued, “And I wasn’t born to them. I was still made. I’m still a worker, through and through.”

“You’re still  _ Myungjun _ , through and through,” Jinwoo corrected, leaning into Myungjun’s side. “Regardless of where you came from, you’re still the crazy alien who crawled into my kitchen and stole my milk and made me fall in love. You’re still the only person I could ever want in my life. You’re the only partner I can see myself standing beside forever and ever.”

Myungjun was still for a few seconds and Jinwoo thought he had gone overboard. Perhaps he had been too coddling, or too bold. He didn’t want to apologize, though, not when he meant every last word.

But Myungjun didn’t seem sad. Instead, he grinned and kissed Jinwoo’s cheek. “I love you,” he murmured, “so, so much. And I’m happy I got to crawl into your kitchen. Imagine if I had crawled into Sanha’s kitchen and fell in love with him. Yuck.”

“Would you have fallen in love with Sanha?”

Myungjun thought the question through, then shook his head. “No. He’s not as handsome as you are.”

Jinwoo couldn’t help the grin that overtook his face. He quite liked being called  _ handsome _ . Though Myungjun called him such on a daily basis, each uttered phrase made Jinwoo’s heart skip a beat with excitement and pride. He returned the kiss Myungjun had given him and then curled in on his boyfriend with a small sigh.

“You’re too much. I love you far too much.”

“You’re acting sweet because I called you handsome, aren’t you?”

“I’m  _ always _ sweet.”

Myungjun laughed and poked Jinwoo’s nose. “You are,” he cooed, and he settled in his new position quite lovingly. Jinwoo remained wrapped around him, using his shoulder as a pillow, and he closed his eyes, embracing the warmth Myungjun had to offer.

When Myungjun spoke again, he was quieter, more thoughtful. “I was stolen from the mines when I was a child.”

Jinwoo blinked his eyes open but didn’t move. He merely listened as Myungjun dived into the story of his past.

“It was one of the overseers. I remember him now. He was a nice one. He never hurt any of the workers. When I got hurt once and was bleeding, I knew better than to cry. Crying was a surefire way to get punished. But he saw I was hurt and helped me bandage it, even though he didn’t need to do that.” Myungjun sighed and placed his hands in his lap, where he fumbled with his fingers as he spoke. “I don’t know why he took  _ me _ , out of all the other workers. There were plenty of boys my age. But he took  _ me _ home with him and I met his wife — my mother. She was happy to have me. She treated me well. I got my own room, my own bed, toys and-and I had food whenever I wanted. It was weird, but I loved it.

“It only lasted for a bit, though. In the middle of the night, my father took me from my bed and we went to the mines. He was quiet and made me be quiet and he took me inside one of the houses and sat me down on a bed. He was sad; I think he was crying. But he told me to be good and stay silent, and I...I struggled to do as he asked. I realized what it meant.” Myungjun tensed a bit and murmured, “I was a liability, I think, and he had to get rid of me. I was being left behind. I still don’t know  _ why _ ; maybe he was being investigated or maybe they were moving or maybe he simply didn’t want me any longer.”

Jinwoo longed to break in and interrupt the story.  _ Who wouldn’t want you? _ he would ask. How could anyone give up Myungjun? How could anyone look at his lovely, sweet alien and think of leaving him behind? It was unimaginable and Jinwoo gripped onto Myungjun tighter, trying his best to offer wordless comfort lest he accidentally say his thoughts aloud.

Myungjun gave a small chuckle. “Thanks, Jinnie. I’m fine now. I mean, I guess I forgot all about it. I didn’t want to remember.”

“I shouldn’t have pressured you into thinking about—”

“Don’t say that,” Myungjun chastised. “I’m thankful you did. I’m happy now, so I  _ want _ to remember now. Now that I know nothing like that will ever happen again, I think I can safely find these memories.”

Jinwoo sat up straighter so he could look Myungjun in the eyes. And,  _ god _ , Myungjun had such gorgeous eyes. They were beautifully large, a rich, deep brown, and Jinwoo was positive he could see stars if he looked hard enough within. Myungjun had seen so much and had experienced so much, and his eyes told the story of his travels. 

“You’ll never be unwanted,” he promised Myungjun, planting a kiss onto one of Myungjun’s eyelids. “You got that? Even if you leave me, god forbid, the world will still accept you. People will  _ love _ you. You’re impossible to ignore and impossible to hate. Anyone would be so happy to take you in and to give you all the love you deserve.”

Myungjun stared at Jinwoo, his eyes even larger than normal. He looked a bit taken aback, but Jinwoo wasn’t going to apologize for his words.

“Jinwoo,” Myungjun started, “I won’t leave you. Do you think I’m going to leave? Because I won’t. I don’t  _ want _ to leave you.”

“And I don’t want you to leave, either, but on the off-chance you do, then I wanted you to know—”

“There’s no off-chance of that ever happening,” Myungjun clarified, words alight with confidence and determination. “I’m in love with you and I won’t  _ ever _ leave.”

Though Jinwoo wanted to take the time to offer reassurance to his friend and though he wanted Myungjun to understand exactly what he meant, he couldn’t help but smile and feel comforted himself. Myungjun really was too cute. He didn’t know how to handle the exuberant innocence of his boyfriend.

“Well, I don’t want you to leave,” he repeated. “So just stay with me forever, hm?”

Myungjun grinned and nodded his head. He leaned forward and kissed Jinwoo lightly, lips barely touching, before he whispered, “Why do I feel like we’ve done this before?”

“Because we have. We always kiss.”

“Yes, but…” Myungjun trailed off, eyebrows burrowing in confusion. “We kissed...we kissed  _ before _ .”

Jinwoo didn’t understand. He cocked his head. “Before? Before what?”

Unfortunately, it appeared Myungjun didn’t understand his own words, either. “Before...I don’t know. Before  _ here _ .”

“You mean, on your planet?”

“I think.” Myungjun drew back. He looked frustrated, as if searching for a memory he was unable to pinpoint, and he finally gave a huff in annoyance. “It’s right  _ there _ ! I keep seeing you, and I keep kissing you, and I know it’s a memory that I haven’t figured out, so why can’t I grasp it?”

Jinwoo frowned. Myungjun had said something similar before, and Bin had warned him of this weird development. He wasn’t sure how he should take it. Myungjun was clearly envisioning Jinwoo on Planet Seven, though he knew it wasn’t possible. Was Jinwoo really a stand-in? If that was the case, was Myungjun kissing someone else?

“Darling,” Jinwoo murmured, running his fingers through Myungjun’s hair, “do you think it’s not  _ me _ you’re remembering but maybe a friend? Maybe another worker who looked like me, or someone you got along well with?”

Myungjun pursed his lips. “I...maybe,” he muttered. “But it feels so real. It feels like it  _ was _ you.” Before Jinwoo could say anything to counter that, Myungjun fussed, “Oh, I know it wasn’t. I know I’m being ridiculous. I just  _ feel _ like you were...like you were there.” He gave a small, breathless laugh and then leaned into Jinwoo’s arms. “My brain is messed up, I think. Is my translator still working?”

Jinwoo kissed the side of Myungjun’s head that he could reach. He received a mouthful of hair for his effort, but that didn’t deter him in the slightest. “It is. I understand every single word you’re saying.”

“I understand you, too. Maybe it’s my brain that isn’t working.”

“I think your brain works well enough.” Jinwoo grinned and kissed Myungjun’s hair a second time. “I bet you have a larger brain that I do. Full of memories and thoughts and ideas and intelligence.”

Myungjun gave a muffled noise of disagreement, to which Jinwoo laughed and held his boyfriend close. Still, he couldn’t be distracted for long, and soon he found himself asking, “Did you have any friends on the planet?”

“I didn’t...I didn’t have anyone. I don’t think.” Myungjun squeezed his eyes shut. “Maybe I did, though. It’s possible. If I had a mom and a dad I didn’t remember until now, maybe I did have a friend.” He sighed, eyes still closed, and asked, “But why would I think of  _ you _ instead of my friend?”

Jinwoo didn’t want to delve into tragic possibilities, but that was all he could think of. Myungjun wouldn't willingly forget any  _ good _ memories. The memory of his parents was haunted by abandonment, so what if the memory of his friend was haunted by something else, something even  _ worse _ than what his parents had done?

Before he could say anything or offer any sort of advice, Myungjun sighed and picked his head up from Jinwoo’s shoulder. “When are your exams?” he asked.

Jinwoo raised his eyebrows, surprised at the sudden change of topic, but he didn’t mention it. Myungjun clearly no longer wanted to speak of his past, and Jinwoo would respect his wishes. “They start on Tuesday. I’ll be done by the weekend, and then Inyoung is throwing a little party at her place.”

“Oh.” Myungjun nodded his head and looked down to the floor. “Are...are you going?”

“Yeah. Just to hang out with them for a bit.” 

When Myungjun nodded a second time, Jinwoo was reminded of what Bin had mentioned to him earlier that week. Myungjun didn’t care much for his friends, and they never seemed to care much for him. It wasn’t like Jinwoo had made any effort to bridge that discomfort, either. He had allowed it to fester and had never once invited Myungjun to formally introduce himself to any classmates. He kept Myungjun silent and out of the way, partially out of fear. What would they think if they knew he was gay? Would they accept him? Would they still want to be around him?

But then he thought of Myungjun, hiding out in his own apartment so he wouldn’t disturb Jinwoo or his friends. That wasn’t right. Myungjun shouldn’t be shoved out of sight like an ugly piece of furniture. Myungjun had every right to be able to speak with Jinwoo’s classmates. 

And if the truth came out, would it really be the end of the world?

“Why don’t you come with me to the party?” he suggested gently, nudging on Myungjun’s shoulder.

When Myungjun looked up at him, eyes shining in hope and excitement, Jinwoo couldn’t help but grin.

Even if his secret would be uncovered, he knew it would be fun. 

And he hoped that it was fun for Myungjun, too. He hoped that Myungjun could create new memories, memories full of life and happiness that would replace all of the tragic memories hidden somewhere in Myungjun’s brain. If he never remembered what happened on his planet, that was fine, right? 

It was best for Myungjun to forget everything bad and to only remember the good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hit me up on my twitter page [@vonseal](https://twitter.com/thevonseal) for spoilers and general nonsense.


	9. party til the sun go down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we gonna soon come to a close - just gotta figure out mj's past ;)

It would take a few days for the results to come in, but Jinwoo was finished with his exams. He had traversed home on the last day, worn out and exhausted, and had instantly collapsed onto his bed, splayed out across the sheets and ready to take a nice, long nap.

He had forgotten about the party, however, and had also forgotten that Myungjun was home early that day to ready himself for said party.

“Jinwoo!” Myungjun exclaimed, tossing himself onto the bed alongside Jinwoo and grinning widely. “You’re done! How do you think it went?”

“I hope I passed,” Jinwoo mumbled, voice muffled in the pillows.

Myungjun stretched his body out over Jinwoo’s. “I’m sure you did. You’re very intelligent. You’re the most intelligent person I know!”

“Maybe,” Jinwoo grunted. Myungjun’s elbow was digging into his shoulder blades but he decided not to complain. He liked feeling the warmth of his boyfriend. Besides, he had been rather distant during exam week and wanted nothing more than to be suffocated under love and an overly-enthusiastic alien. 

“It was hard, though,” he complained. “I struggled so much. I just want to sleep until the results come out and see what my life will become.”

Myungjun rolled off of him to settle by his side. He lay on his stomach, elbows propped up, and that same, sweet smile overtaking his expression. “I’ve no doubt that you’ve done well.”

Jinwoo returned the smile. “Thanks.”

“And if you didn’t do well,” Myungjun continued, “then you can just try again! And you’ll do better the next time! Or, you know, you could always come and work with me. I’ll bet Dongmin will hire you, too.”

Jinwoo knew that Dongmin wouldn’t hire a second person, not with Myungjun taking up the majority of his hours. Besides, to make ends meet, Jinwoo knew he needed a better-paying job.

“Well,” he muttered, “I could always pick up full-time shifts at the restaurant.”

“You hate working there.”

“I need to pay rent somehow.”

“I’ll pay rent. You don’t worry yourself anymore,” Myungjun cooed, planting a kiss onto Jinwoo’s forehead. When he drew back, Jinwoo wanted to say something else (something that would make Myungjun coddle him even more), but Myungjun beat him to the chase with his own question. “When should we leave for your party?”

Jinwoo checked the time. He had a few hours, but he knew he might as well start getting ready. He wanted to shower and shave and find fresh clothes to wear. 

“In a bit,” he said, patting Myungjun’s back. “I’ll go start getting ready, okay? You can take a shower after me.”

Myungjun sat up quickly, eyebrows raised. “Or,” he started, a mischievous expression in his gaze, “we  _ could _ shower together. You know, it’s been a while since—”

“God, yes,” Jinwoo agreed, and Myungjun laughed as they made their way to the bathroom.

Though the shower took longer than Jinwoo had originally planned (and much water was wasted — his bill would be astronomical), they  _ did _ manage to get ready on time. Jinwoo thought briefly about ditching his friends and staying home with Myungjun (and utilizing their bed this time), but Myungjun refused.

“It’ll do you good to hang out with them,” he stated, sounding as if he was reading some pre-rehearsed script. “You don’t have many friends, and this is a good chance to make more.”

Jinwoo narrowed his eyes at Myungjun’s cheeriness. “Did Minhyuk tell you to say that?”

“Yes,” Myungjun confirmed, unashamed of his sources. “I hope I memorized the words correctly. Did they sound correct?”

“They sounded fine,” Jinwoo muttered.

He was going to beat Minhyuk up one of these days.

But he couldn’t do it tonight. Tonight  _ was _ a good chance to strengthen his friendships, and to make some new friends. Tonight was also a good chance to finally allow others to see just how important Myungjun was to him. 

He was terrified of showing Myungjun off. He was so scared of uttering those words,  _ Myungjun is my boyfriend _ to be met with scowls or upturned noses. How would his friends react? How would Myungjun react to such disapproval? Should he even bother mentioning the relationship, or should he still pretend they were roommates, nothing more than close friends?

He grabbed onto Myungjun’s hand as they walked out the door. He couldn’t worry too much, or else he wouldn’t leave his apartment. He had to be truthful at some point, and perhaps tonight was the night.

*:;,．★ ～☆・:.,;* *:;,．★ ～☆・:.,;* *:;,．★ ～☆・:.,;* *:;,．★ ～☆・:.,;*

The party was in full swing by the time Jinwoo and Myungjun showed up. There were more people than he thought there would be, and the apartment seemed overcrowded, but Jinwoo still slipped in, keeping a tight hold on Myungjun’s hand so as to not lose him in the mess of people. 

He caught sight of Inyoung and waved. She beamed with delight, hurrying forward to meet him, though her smile dampened when she saw Myungjun. 

“Oh,” she said, “you brought your roommate.”

Her tone was a bit scathing. Jinwoo didn’t like it, and he sighed. “His name’s Myungjun,” he defended his boyfriend.

“Why are you holding hands with Myungjun, then?” Inyoung questioned, gesturing to their intertwined fingers.

Jinwoo was ready. He was ready to proclaim Myungjun as his boyfriend, as the love of his life, as his soulmate. But the words wouldn’t come. They lodged themselves into Jinwoo’s throat, refusing to be coaxed out, even as Inyoung looked at him curiously and even as Myungjun’s hand gripped his own in concern.

Finally, he muttered, “So he wouldn’t get lost.”

Then he let Myungjun’s hand go.

He didn’t dare look over at Myungjun. He could feel the disappointment radiating off of him in waves. He could feel the pain and the frustration. Myungjun had assumed they would be outed as a couple. Myungjun had assumed he would finally be Jinwoo’s equal in the eyes of his classmates. Jinwoo had tossed all of that aside just to save face.

Pathetic. He was pathetic.

Myungjun left his side. He pushed his way through the small crowd of people, who didn’t give him a second glance. Jinwoo took a step forward, wanting to call out to him, but his view was overtaken by another friend, Kyungho, who already seemed to have a bit of alcohol in his system and who slung an arm around Jinwoo’s shoulder.

“Jinwoo!” Kyungho exclaimed. “You survived the exams!”

“I did,” Jinwoo replied. He tried to pry Kyungho off of him, but despite Kyungho’s general aloofness when sober, he seemed to become a completely different creature when suffering the effects of alcohol. His grip was tight and he refused to be budged.

“I think I did  _ awesome _ ,” Kyungho continued as if Jinwoo wasn’t nearly wrestling with him. “I think I passed with flying colors. I know you did, too; you studied hard!”

“Thanks.” Jinwoo scanned the living room, standing on his toes in order to peer over the heads of his taller classmates. He couldn’t see Myungjun anyway. 

He couldn’t see Inyoung anywhere, either. She had left when Kyungho made his presence known.

“Where’s Inyoung?” he asked, giving Kyungho a small shake.

Kyungho blinked and glanced around. “Oh, I don’t know. She shouldn’t be too far, though. She likes you. She’ll never leave you alone at her house.” Kyungho gave a small scoff. “You know she wants to get into your pants.”

The revelation was astounding. Jinwoo wanted to deny such a thing. Jinwoo wanted to exclaim that he and Inyoung were merely friends, no more and no less. However, he realized that her behavior had always been a little off. She clung to him more than any of his other friends. She constantly asked about his dating life, as if he had romantic interests lined up out the door. She wore more makeup if they made plans to hang out, and she seemed to become terribly jealous if he paid attention to any other girl.

Then, of course, there was the way she treated Myungjun.

Originally she had accepted Myungjun as his roommate. She never made an effort to talk much to him, but she tolerated his existence. As time went on, as she became aware of the living arrangements and of their close relationship, she began criticizing him more often.  _ I think you ought to live on your own, _ she had stated one day during a study session.  _ Or, at least, with other astronomy majors. _

Jinwoo had laughed off her words, but now, looking back on them, he realized they were a plea. Inyoung wanted  _ him _ , and she seemed to understand that Jinwoo’s heart always belonged to another, someone who was neither a fellow student or a female. 

She had become passive-aggressive recently, hadn’t she? She made comments that might have been about Myungjun, but were vague enough to be about  _ anyone _ . She would see a gay couple, either in the movies or out on the street, and she would nudge Jinwoo and ask,  _ Could you imagine? _

Could he imagine what? Jinwoo had never asked for clarification. He had always chuckled and shrugged and hurried onto another subject.

Oh, god, she knew. She had known the whole time, and she had been displeased, and she had forced him into such uncomfortable situations. She had stirred the pot and had helped him to reject Myungjun in front of everybody.

But he couldn’t put the blame fully on her. No, she had been jealous and petty and rude, but she hadn’t been the one to close off Jinwoo’s heart. She hadn’t molded him into such a pathetic creature. She hadn’t held his mouth and forced him to say,  _ Myungjun is simply a roommate _ . That had been all his own doing. He was the one, ultimately, who had hurt Myungjun in the process. Myungjun had done nothing but love him. Myungjun had shouted his praises. Myungjun was  _ proud _ of their relationship. And Jinwoo hid away in fear and disgust, too afraid of rejection.

That was how he had almost ruined his chances with Myungjun initially. He had been so close to kissing Myungjun, so close to starting their relationship early, and yet he had drawn back. He was terrified of rejection. He had forced Myungjun to watch as he kissed another, all because of his pathetic, stupid fear.

He didn’t want to hurt Myungjun again. He  _ couldn’t _ hurt Myungjun again. Poor Myungjun, who had suffered so much hardship only to be rejected once again on Earth.

Rejected by someone who claimed to love him. Tossed aside like garbage.  _ You’re no longer my child _ , his parents had likely said. How was that any different from Jinwoo?  _ You’re not my boyfriend here _ . It was the same intention with different words.

He grabbed Kyungho’s arm and tore it off of him, and, heart steeled in determination, he announced, “Myungjun’s my boyfriend.”

Kyungho blinked. “Your...boyfriend?”

It was scary. It was terrifying. But, strangely enough, it was  _ liberating _ , and Jinwoo nodded his head. He refused to back down. He wouldn’t be yet another person who rejected poor Myungjun.

“Boyfriend,” he confirmed. “I’m gay. Gay as hell. I only sleep with guys, and I only sleep with Myungjun. I only want to get into  _ his _ pants. And I have a ring — I’m going to propose, and I’m going to marry him, and I’ll stay with him forever and ever.”

Kyungho still looked surprised but, oddly enough, he grinned. “Man, love declarations make me weepy. You know, my sister’s gay, too.”

Jinwoo hadn’t expected this. “She...she is?”

“Yeah. She’s got herself a girlfriend. My parents about shit themselves at first, but now they’re cool.” He laughed, snorting a bit, then gave Jinwoo’s back a resounding slap. “Did you  _ really _ think I’d hate you for coming out?”

“I…” Jinwoo didn’t know what to say.

“Inyoung might, but only because she likes you a lot. Yeonha probably won’t care. She likes reading those manga, the ones with the gay porn, you know. I mean, if anything, she’d fetishize your relationship, but…” Kyungho shrugged, clearly not too bothered by how anyone else would react.

Jinwoo stared at his friend before giving a small smile. “Ah,” he muttered for lack of anything else to say. He wanted to cry. The acceptance was so lovely and had touched his heart so deeply.

“Is that why Myungjun’s always been awkward around us? Because you didn’t want us to know?”

“Y-Yeah.” Jinwoo’s voice barely rose above the din of people around him. He felt humiliated, now that Kyungho knew he had shoved his own boyfriend aside in order to appear a bit cooler. “I need to find him, though. I really...I screwed it all up.”

Kyungho nodded his head, as if he understood. He must really be tipsy. He wasn’t normally so exuberant. “Did he go down the hallway? He might be in the bathroom.”

“I...I think,” Jinwoo agreed, and he followed Kyungho through the throngs of people, apologizing to whoever he had to push past.

The hallway was much less crowded than the living room was. As they neared the bathroom, Jinwoo could hear a familiar voice ringing through — Inyoung. He found where she went, at least, and he scurried forward, catching the tail-end of her words.

“—confused, and you’re not doing much to help him. You didn’t need to come, either. I don’t think he likes you like that, because he tells me everything and he’s never once mentioned liking you.”

Jinwoo could see her now, standing in the doorway of the bathroom, back facing the party. She looked bored, nonchalant, and shrugged her shoulders at whoever she was talking to.

When she moved a bit, though, leaning her shoulder against the door frame, Jinwoo was able to catch sight of the recipient of her words.

_ Myungjun _ .

Myungjun stood at the sink, gripping onto the edge of it with force. He had definitely been crying, evident by the tear-streaks down his cheeks and his bloodshot eyes. He didn’t meet Inyoung’s gaze, choosing instead to look down at the floor, meek and innocent and  _ scared _ .

He was scared of rejection. Myungjun had always been scared of rejection. And now here was someone who claimed to have inside knowledge, who dangled around the idea of  _ rejection _ , who filled Myungjun’s mind with horrid thoughts.

Jinwoo felt a flash of anger, and he grabbed onto Inyoung’s arm, yanking her back. She nearly collided into Kyungho, who gave a small, “Jinwoo, calm down!”

Inyoung gasped and then looked up at Jinwoo. “Jinwoo!” she exclaimed, her cheeks a little pink and her eyes wide.

Jinwoo didn’t care if he was making a scene. He didn’t care if some of the party had turned to look at him. All he cared about was making things right.

“Fuck off,” he snapped to Inyoung, and he knew it was quite uncharacteristic of him, but he couldn’t help himself. He had never felt this angry before, and most of the anger was directed toward himself.

He shoved Inyoung aside. She would have fallen had she not caught herself against the wall, and Jinwoo decided to ignore her for the time being. She wasn’t important. Only Myungjun mattered at the moment.

He turned to his boyfriend, who had watched the proceedings in shock. At least his crying had stopped, though Jinwoo despaired knowing he had made Myungjun cry.

“Jun,” he murmured, “I’m...I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Myungjun quickly responded, wiping at his face. “I’m sorry for—”

“You have nothing at all to apologize for,” Jinwoo interrupted. “I...I do. God, Myungjun, I’m so sorry. I was an idiot, and...you’re my boyfriend.”

Myungjun’s eyes widened. He stared, unsure of what to say, so Jinwoo repeated himself. “You’re my boyfriend.”

“I’m...we’re in front of people, Jinwoo.”

“I know.” And then, louder, so all of the students watching him could hear, he called out, “I’m dating my roommate! He’s the cutest boyfriend ever!”

No one seemed to care. Most people seemed to be confused and others seemed to be anticipating a fight of sorts. Jinwoo stepped into the bathroom, closer to Myungjun, and sighed. 

“I shouldn’t have been hiding our relationship. You don’t deserve that, Jun. You deserve someone who will always lift you up, someone who will always be proud of you. And from now on, I’ll do that. I’m going to yell to every single person in this universe about how amazing you are.”

Myungjun bit down on his lip. He looked conflicted, torn between his embarrassment and his desire to be comforted.

The comfort won over. He rushed forward and collided into Jinwoo’s chest. He wrapped his arms around Jinwoo and held him close, his head resting on Jinwoo’s shoulder as he calmed himself down all the more.

Jinwoo, surrounded by his peers, decided that not a single thing could tear him from Myungjun’s side at that moment. He would remain here for as long as possible and he would shower all of his lover onto Myungjun.

“I’m sorry I left your side,” Myungjun whispered, the words only for him. “I got...I got nervous. You didn’t...I wanted you to say who I was. I didn’t want to be pushed aside.”

He had been pushed aside plenty. There was a knot in Jinwoo’s throat as he enveloped Myungjun in his embrace. “I’m so sorry,” he murmured back. “I was dumb. I was an idiot. I didn’t mean to hurt you, and I’ll never, ever hurt you again, alright?”

Myungjun nodded. He gave a light, airy chuckle and pulled back slightly from the hug, his cheeks flushed. “Ah...everyone’s staring at us.”

“I don’t care,” Jinwoo said, and he found that statement to be true. Whereas before he would be horrified to know that others had figured out about his sexuality and relationship with his roommate, he now felt nothing but peace. He wanted them to know. He wanted everyone to see Myungjun and think,  _ Oh, that’s Jinwoo’s boyfriend _ .

“You wanna go home?” Jinwoo asked.

“We just...we just got here.”

Jinwoo glanced back at Inyoung, who was staring alongside a few others. Her eyes were wide and she seemed distraught, likely from Jinwoo’s harsh actions. “Well,” Jinwoo murmured, “I don’t think we’d be welcome here any longer.”

It was likely Myungjun didn’t understand why, but he nodded anyway, and Jinwoo cleared his throat and took his boyfriend by the arm, gently dragging him out of the bathroom and away from prying eyes. The guests in the living room were none the wiser, and Jinwoo was able to slip past them rather easily.

When they were outside, out of earshot of the crowd, Myungjun wrapped his arms around Jinwoo and held him tight.

“I love you,” he whispered. 

And Jinwoo laughed as he hugged Myungjun back. “I’ll yell out my love for the world to hear.”

“You already did that.”

“I didn’t  _ yell _ . This is yelling—” And Jinwoo took a deep breath before bellowing out to the stars, “I love Kim Myungjun!”

Myungjun started slightly, but then laughed and laughed, his breath warm on Jinwoo’s ear as they rocked back and forth under the night sky, uncaring who saw and who heard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hit me up on my twitter page [@vonseal](https://twitter.com/thevonseal) for spoilers and general nonsense.


	10. remembering

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's been a while, homies. we dont have much more of this, so hang in there!

It had been about a week since the disastrous party. Jinwoo had been nervous to find out what everyone truly thought of his sexuality, but it seemed to go over far better than he had expected for it to. Many of his friends had even expressed their support, texting Jinwoo to make sure he was doing well and pledging to beat up anyone who said anything against him (though Jinwoo dissuaded them from physical violence as best he could). Inyoung had yet to say anything, but Jinwoo knew that things between them would now be awkward and uncomfortable. He refused to be the first one to break, and he hoped that she would soon apologize for her behavior.

“I won’t forgive her, though,” Jinwoo told Myungjun one evening as they walked down the street, full from a dinner of delicious pork belly. “It was absolutely abhorrent, what she did to you, and I don’t know if something like that deserves forgiveness.”

Myungjun smiled over at Jinwoo. Their hands were linked, mittened fingers holding onto each other the best they could through such thick fabric. “I think you should always forgive people. I watched one of your children’s shows and it says we need to make sure we always forgive others when they apologize.”

“Would you forgive her?” Jinwoo asked, curious.

“Yes.”

“Are you just saying that?”

“Maybe. Probably. Oh, no, I think I  _ would _ forgive her.” Myungjun gave a small huff of breath, watching the misty cloud form in front of him from such an action. “Look, I can see my breath!” He breathed again and shivered while giggling at the sight. “It sure is cold.”

Jinwoo tugged Myungjun along, hopeful his boyfriend was bundled in enough heavy clothing to keep him relatively warm. The sooner he got home, in front of his heater with Myungjun curled up beside him, the better.

“Why would you forgive her?” he asked.

Myungjun shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know. The show told me to forgive people, so I think I’ll forgive her.”

Jinwoo knew he ought not ask, but the question spilled from his mouth, anyway. “Would you forgive the people back on your planet?”

That seemed to give Myungjun a pause. He faltered in his steps, eyes narrowed in thought. “I’d…” he started, then trailed off.

Jinwoo recognized how wrong it was of him to say. He wet his lips and murmured, “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up. You went through something horrible, and I’m trivializing it.”

“No, it’s a good question. It requires me to think; good questions should require me to think. It’s a  _ hard _ question,” Myungjun admitted, “but a good one. I would, um…” He hummed and asked, “Would it be awful of me to  _ not _ forgive them?”

“They don’t deserve your forgiveness. Not after what they did to me.”

“And to  _ you _ . I mean, to...whoever I keep replacing with you.” Myungjun smacked his forehead with his free hand. “Why can I not remember? I keep telling myself that it’s okay to bring back those memories! I’m safe now, so why has my brain still decided not to tell me what truly happened?”

Jinwoo had done a bit of research on Myungjun’s current condition. Of course, he knew looking at a few articles online wasn’t a true diagnosis, but it was probably as close to one as they would ever get. Jinwoo thought of allowing Myungjun the opportunity to talk to a therapist, someone who was professionally trained to help him sort through all of his thoughts. But those cost money, and he would have to find someone who would remain discreet about Myungjun’s true identity. He would also have to find someone who  _ believed _ in Myungjun’s true identity, someone who wouldn’t ship him off to some mental hospital at the first mention of alien planets.

For now, all he could do was spout off a few interesting facts from the online articles and hope that Myungjun would be able to figure out the rest on his own. 

“I...I think it’s just from the trauma. And perhaps your brain has decided to just...forget everything bad. Or some of the bad stuff, I guess. The worst of it. It happens to people who experience something really traumatic in their lives. I mean, there’s a bunch of scientific reasons behind it, but I didn’t understand what I read.”

“You didn’t understand?” Myungjun furrowed his eyebrows. “Aren’t you studying to be a scientist?”

“A scientist of space, not of humans.”

“I’m an alien from outer space. You should be an expert on me!”

Jinwoo laughed, and feeling a sudden bout of affection, he leaned over to plant a kiss onto Myungjun’s nose. “You’re far more human-like than I had initially imagined you to be. I mean, other than the blue blood and the parent situation and whatever else I might not be privy to.”

“My teeth.”

“Your teeth?”

“Yeah! Human children lose their teeth and grow new ones. I’ve had this same set of teeth my entire life!”

Jinwoo tried to imagine a young Myungjun, running around with adult teeth. He held back a giggle, worried Myungjun might be offended if he devolved into hilarity. “We-Well,” he stammered, his lips twitching upwards, wanting so horribly to smile. He tried his best to focus on the situation at hand. “Regardless, I’m not very knowledgeable on how brains work. Just...distance from here to the sun, I guess. And so I can’t really tell you why you’ve forgotten parts of your memory, just that I’m here to help you get it back. Even if it’s traumatic, I think it’s for the best you can come to terms with what happened. Only then, I believe, will you be able to move on.”

Myungjun nodded his head, seeming to agree. “I have...I have bits and pieces. You fill in for black faces often. Maybe if I focus hard enough, I can probably remember the rest.” He tightened his lips, then asked, “Can we go to the ocean?”

Jinwoo blinked. “The ocean?”

“I mean, whenever we’re able. I want to return to the site of my crash landing. Maybe if I stand there, I’ll remember things. I don’t think I had any memory issues when I crashed onto your planet, so...I don’t know, it might work. I saw it in a television show once. The lady went back to the scene of the crime and remembered what had happened.”

It was possible Myungjun was correct. Jinwoo had seen similar things in movies, but he wasn’t certain if it was an accurate portrayal of reality. Could memories really be jogged by such a simple visit? Could Myungjun really remember his entire past if he stood by the shore and gazed out across the ocean?

It was more likely it wouldn’t work; however, it didn’t hurt anything to check. Jinwoo was still on break until the spring semester, and he was already growing bored with his never-ending work schedule. A quick drive down to the beach, even in the middle of winter, would be fun, regardless if Myungjun actually found his missing memories.

“Let’s go,” Jinwoo agreed, and Myungjun grinned widely with those words. “Tomorrow, alright? Let’s head to the beach and see what happens.”

Myungjun gave a small jump in excitement and forced himself closer into Jinwoo’s side. They lumbered underneath street lights, connected by their arms and their hearts.

“If I don’t remember anything, then what?” Myungjun questioned, his smile faltering slightly. “What if it’s all a pointless trip?”

“Oh, it won’t be pointless. We can pick up something yummy, like seafood, and watch the waves and the birds. It’ll be fun!” But he knew what Myungjun meant, and he sighed, leaning over to plant a kiss onto Myungjun’s cheek. “If you don’t remember, then we keep trying. We’ll try to get you to remember over and over and over again. And if you don’t want to, then we stop. But I won’t stop trying until  _ you _ want to stop.”

Myungjun hesitated before sending Jinwoo another bright smile. “You’re a good Earthling,” he murmured, eyes twinkling in the starlight. “You’re the best Earthling ever. Better, even, than Boyfriend Bin. And he’s a very good Earthling.”

“Is he, though? I think he’s quite irresponsible.”

“Perhaps he is, but that doesn’t make him a  _ bad _ Earthling. Earthlings are good when they express empathy and kindness. And you’re the best because you love me a lot.” 

Jinwoo knew it was cold outside, yet his body was quickly filling with warmth. He felt it difficult to contain, and the warmth burst out the only way it knew how to; through words. When he was so warm, he found it easy to spin words of gold, to place upon Myungjun all of his love and adoration. This time was no different.

“I love you more than I love anything,” Jinwoo promised him, though he knew that Myungjun was well aware. “I’ll never, ever leave you or deny your love ever again, you hear me?” Myungjun giggled in response, and Jinwoo relished in such a sound. He wanted to keep it going, so he asked, “Should I yell it to the stars again? Should I let them know how much you mean to me?”

“They’re inanimate objects,” Myungjun pointed out. “They can’t hear you.”

It was true. The stars were merely balls of gas far, far away. They had no thoughts and no feelings. They were simply  _ light _ . Still, Jinwoo remembered the way they had listened, the way they had sent him a ridiculously sweet and lovely alien. That had been the stars, hadn’t it? They had guided Myungjun on the path and sent him crash-landing right into Jinwoo’s backyard.

“Too bad,” Jinwoo said, and he yelled out, “I love this man!”

Myungjun laughed again, but then, surprisingly, joined in with the yelling. He took a deep breath and added his own words, shouting them up to the night sky: “Jinwoo is the best Earthling ever!”

They both grinned, slowing to a slow march as Jinwoo wrapped his arm around Myungjun’s waist. “Kiss me,” he demanded, and before Myungjun could do as he requested, his lips found purchase within Myungjun’s own.

Myungjun, smiling into the kiss, moved even closer to Jinwoo, his eyes sliding closed and his cheeks turning red.

“Tomorrow,” Jinwoo promised, “we’ll return to your crash sight. We’ll figure this out. I promise.”

When Myungjun drew back for breath, he whispered, “But if we don’t, I think I’ll be okay. I have you, after all.”

Jinwoo had to expel all of his personal warmth by throwing himself back into the kiss, unable to even  _ fathom _ letting Myungjun go.

*:;,．★ ～☆・:.,;* *:;,．★ ～☆・:.,;* *:;,．★ ～☆・:.,;* *:;,．★ ～☆・:.,;*

Jinwoo wished he had thought to check the weather before agreeing to a drive down to the beach. It was already cold enough, but with the heavy ocean winds hitting him, Jinwoo felt as if his face would crack and slowly chip away. He huddled into his heavy coat as Myungjun gazed out over at the waves, searching for the memories he had hidden away.

He tried his best to stop his teeth from shattering. He shifted from one foot to the other, rubbing his gloved hands together on occasion and shaking his legs, hopeful he wouldn’t get frostbite from this.

Myungjun was usually the one to complain first about cold weather. He grew up in a hot climate and was unused to the bitter cold that Earth’s winter offered. However, now he simply stood there, a shiver passing through him every so often, but otherwise still as could be. His eyes darted this way and that, desperately looking for that which he believed the ocean could offer him.

“It...it might help if y-you talk about it,” Jinwoo pointed out. He cleared his throat. “Where, exactly, did you crash? Do you remember?”

Myungjun narrowed his eyes. They had walked all along the shore, but Myungjun found it all to look the same. He couldn’t pinpoint the exact location as well as he had initially assumed. He turned his head, studying the architecture in the distance, trying to discern where he had come from and where he had gone.

“Well,” he started, crossing his arms over his chest, “I, um...I stole clothes at one point. But I don’t...I think when I crashed, I looked around and didn’t see any buildings. I had to walk for a while to find some.”

“Further, then,” Jinwoo stated, and they shuffled along the shore line, minding the water and the few crabs crazy enough to be out in such cold weather. Jinwoo took each step with a little bounce, doing his best to stay warm, but Myungjun seemed oddly distant. Usually, in quiet moments like this, he was a little more rambunctious, a little more talkative and sweet and flirty. But now he remained silent, only staring ahead with steely determination, back straight as he walked.

After a couple of minutes, he whispered, “I think I remember  _ some _ of it.”

Already? Did it work that quickly? Jinwoo wasn’t sure, for he knew very little of the brain, but he decided to listen. Myungjun didn’t stop walking, however, and Jinwoo was forced to match his stride.

“What do you remember?” he asked when it was clear Myungjun wasn’t going to respond without a bit of prompting.

The alien wet his lips with his tongue, then said, “He wanted to steal a ship, the two of us, and fly away from that planet.”

Jinwoo blinked. It explained Myungjun’s escape plan, but it did not explain why this stranger had not tagged along. It didn’t explain why Myungjun was by himself when he landed on Earth.

“Who...who’s  _ he? _ ”

“You. Or, whoever I thought was you.” Myungjun groaned and leaned into Jinwoo, clearly distressed with such a lack of knowledge. “Jinwoo, I can  _ see it _ . I can see it vividly, I think. But his face is...I don’t know who he is. But I see us sitting there, and he’s drying my tears, and he says, ‘We’ll steal a ship. I know how they work. You can learn, too.’”

“And you did learn.”

“Yes. I think I did it because of him.” Myungjun’s lips were tight as he waded through his thoughts in an attempt to figure out his miserable, awful past. Jinwoo wanted to help and offer more advice, but before he could say a word, Myungjun had pushed himself off of Jinwoo and was hurrying along again, as if walking faster would bring about his memories.

And perhaps he was correct, for after a few more minutes of silence, Myungjun blurted out, “He was like me.”

“Like you?”

“Made in the factory, but taken in by a family. I don’t know what family, but that’s how he was aware of the world outside of our mine. He knew about love and affection and family. And I...I think he was with his own family for longer than I was with mine. He knew more than me. He knew way more than me.”

Myungjun gave a sudden yelp and hit the palm of his hand against his cheek. “I can’t...I can’t believe it’s such a fuzzy memory!” he exclaimed. “Jinwoo, why can’t I remember? I was made in a factory; my brain is not a human brain. My brain does not forget. It  _ shouldn’t _ forget. I’m nothing but a worker and we were made to remember and not experience human emotions. I was told I would never know  _ love _ . I would never experience it. So I…” He took a deep breath, and that’s when Jinwoo hurried forward, wrapping his arms tightly around Myungjun’s body.

“You’re not  _ just _ a worker,” he whispered, running his fingers through Myungjun’s hair. “You forgot because you’re just like me, just like all of the Earthlings here. You’re  _ human _ , Jun. I don’t care if you were made in a factory or not. You’re still  _ human _ .” He kissed Myungjun’s forehead and offered him a small smile. “You don’t have to remember things all in one day. We can come back tomorrow, and the next day, and the next day. It’ll be fine; one day, you’ll remember everything.”

Despite his words of comfort, Myungjun still seemed distressed. “I want to remember it  _ now _ . It’s right there, Jinwoo, right in my brain, but I can’t grab it. It’s like...it’s like it’s walled off from me.” He wailed slightly and hid his face in his hands. “Why can’t I remember?”

“Let’s go through what you do remember,” Jinwoo suggested. “There was your nightmare, your first nightmare. Remember that? You dreamed that I died.”

Myungjun winced and nodded his head, peeking through his fingers. “They beat you to death,” he whispered.

Jinwoo didn’t like being reminded himself. He couldn’t imagine the horrors Myungjun must have gone through, and he was so damn thankful the stars had delivered Myungjun into his home, where he could treat the alien with the love and respect he deserved. Still, he knew this moment wasn’t about him or his feelings, so he focused solely on Myungjun.

“Right,” he said, nodding his head. “And you were replacing this man with my image. So...if we, um, if we follow that logic…”

He didn’t want to say it. How was he supposed to say that?  _ Whoever promised to leave Planet Seven with you was beaten to death in front of you _ . How could he say that to poor Myungjun?

But Myungjun seemed to understand what Jinwoo was getting at. “So...so this guy, my friend, then... _ he _ died.”

“Right. And you must have left shortly after that.”

Myungjun squeezed his eyes shut. His forehead wrinkled and his eyebrows furrowed, and suddenly he crouched to the ground, squatting and holding himself tightly, arms wrapped around his knees.

“I think...I think I understand,” he murmured. He didn’t look up at Jinwoo. He didn’t look up at anything. Instead, he whimpered and gave a small cry of, “Jinwoo, I know exactly now what ha-happened.”

And sitting on the sand, the cold breeze biting at his skin, Myungjun began to weep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hit me up on my twitter page [@vonseal](https://twitter.com/thevonseal) for spoilers and general nonsense.


	11. three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some angst here, but one more chapter after this (and i promise fluff, and some ot6)

They sat on a bench together, staring out at the ocean even as the day grew colder and the sun began to dip down in the sky. Myungjun had cried for a while, leaning on Jinwoo as he shed tears for the life he had left behind, but now he was silent, contemplating all he had remembered. Jinwoo, too, remained silent, preferring Myungjun to speak on his own terms.

A breeze passed over, chilling Jinwoo to the bone. He hunkered over, shivering in his heavy coat. Nearby, a woman walked her dog, taking large strides in order to get the exercise over with quickly. The dog, fluffy as could be, seemed not to mind the wind, and barked excitedly instead as it passed Jinwoo and Myungjun.

Jinwoo shot the woman and her dog a small smile and waved. Myungjun didn’t look at them.

The silence stretched on. Sometimes, Myungjun would take a deep breath as if he was about to talk, but his mouth remained shut and his eyes remained fixated on the rolling waves.

Finally, as the moon was rising in the sky and the sunset was casting an orange glow over them, Jinwoo muttered, “We ought to go. I’m freezing, Jun. Are you cold?”

“Yes,” Myungjun croaked.

“Let’s go, then.” Jinwoo stood from his seat, and Myungjun followed his movements. 

They began the slow walk to the car; it was Dongmin’s car, but Jinwoo borrowed it so often he knew he could claim dual ownership. He took out the keys and tossed them in his hand for lack of anything else to do. They jingled as they fell, breaking through Myungjun’s silence, and Jinwoo found the sound a bit out of place, a bit unnerving.

The third time he tossed the keys, he dropped them on the ground.

“Shit,” he murmured, bending over to pick them back up. As he did, Myungjun spoke.

“His translator was broken.”

Jinwoo, fingers just brushing up against the silver of the keys, froze. He glanced at Myungjun and cockedh is head, curious as to what his boyfriend meant.

Myungjun explained himself. “The boy. He was often called Three. There were hundreds, if not thousands called  _ Three _ . Just like there were thousands called  _ Seven _ .” Myungjun rubbed a mittened hand across his red nose. He didn’t meet Jinwoo’s eye. “But he approached me one day. His translator was not speaking in our language. It was making him speak Korean. My translator picked it up, as it does here, and I was able to speak Korean back to him. It was weird, but since we still understood him, his translator was never fixed. It can’t be a coincidence, can it, that you also speak Korean?”

Jinwoo didn’t know what to say. He scooped his keys into his hand and straightened up, giving Myungjun his full and undivided attention.

“He talked to me. He explained that he was taken in by a family for far longer than I had been. He was with them for...for a very long time. I suppose it would be years if we go off Earth time. He was with them for years. He knew so much about families. He knew so much of the world, of the  _ universe _ . His parents were executed for harboring him. I suppose that’s why my parents got rid of me. They were scared they would be next.

“Three was with me whenever we had time to be together. He was older, and he didn’t work as hard because he knew a better life, but he stuck by my side. He told me that there were planets filled with water, and planets with vegetation, and planets with poisonous gas. He explained to me the different aliens that would arrive at our planet; he could tell me where they were from based on what they looked like. He knew about love, too. He knew everything about love.”

Myungjun trailed off and Jinwoo realized his teeth had begun to chatter. “Let’s get in the car,” he suggested. “I can turn on the heat. I know you hate the cold, right?”

Nodding his head, Myungjun trailed after him. Once in the car, Jinwoo turned the heat on full blast, waiting a few minutes until they were both warm. Then, he cleared his throat and looked back at Myungjun.

“I’d like to hear the rest, if you would like to tell me.”

Myungjun frowned. “It’s rather sad.”

“I know.” Jinwoo grabbed Myungjun’s hand and placed a kiss onto his wrist, the only sliver of skin he was able to see. “I’m willing to listen, though, if you are willing to talk.”

There was a moment of hesitation, but finally Myungjun gave in, settling down in his seat in order to deliver the remainder of his story.

“He gave me my first kiss.”

Jinwoo, having assumed he held that position in Myungjun’s life, tried his best to hide his disappointment. “He kissed you?”

“Yes. On the lips. I didn’t know what it meant, necessarily. I just returned the kiss because he told me that’s something you do to someone you love.”

“Did you love him?”

“I guess.” Myungjun shrugged his shoulders. “At the time, I had no idea who or what I loved. It was difficult to feel much emotion. We worked so hard throughout the day and sometimes into the night. We hardly had any food, and everything we did have was liquid. Workers died constantly, and the managers always were looking for excuses to take out their anger and frustration on us. I didn’t have anything left in me to  _ love _ someone. But I suppose I must have, deep down. I didn’t recognize it at the time. I think I do now.” He glanced at Jinwoo and gave a soft smile. “I hope you are not jealous. I am often jealous of you, but--”

“I’m not jealous,” Jinwoo assured him, and he found, to his surprise, he was telling the truth. He was first disappointed that Myungjun had kissed someone before him, but it didn’t matter at all in the grand scheme of things. At least Myungjun had someone who cared about him on that godforsaken planet.

Myungjun’s smile grew slightly, but it turned back into a frown as he continued his story. “He would show me the stars often. He would wake me from the precious sleep I was able to find and he would point at the stars and tell me he would take me away to a star one day. He knew of all the nearby stars, and the planets that orbited those stars. He told me we could take a ship and go to a planet and start a new life together. I knew it was nothing more than a silly wish, so I humored him. I listened as he described exactly how to steal a ship and how to fly a ship. He knew a lot. I knew more about ships, though. They trusted me more than anyone, so I was able to go into hangars and look into ships and help fuel them sometimes. I knew a lot about the ships, so his plan was dependent on whether or not I would agree.”

With his eyebrows furrowed, Myungjun suddenly stopped. He grit his teeth down and looked at his lap, as if disturbed by part of his story. Jinwoo wouldn’t be shocked if he truly was disturbed; what he already knew of Myungjun’s past was awful enough, and he was aware the story did not end well for Myungjun’s poor friend.

“Except I didn’t...I didn’t agree. I told him...I told him no.” Myungjun closed his eyes, as if reliving his new memory over and over again. “I don’t know why I said no. I think I was frightened. I knew if we got caught then they would kill me. I didn’t want to be killed, and so I said no. But why was I so afraid of death? The planet had nothing to offer me; my parents had given me up and all that remained was work, work, work. You worked until your body could no longer handle the physical toll, and then you died. They would toss you in a furnace, and then you would be forgotten. That was the future which awaited me, and I still refused to go with my friend.

“I think my rejection ruined Three. He was lazy after that. He would do his work alongside me, but he did less than everyone else. He stopped sleeping, and he stopped eating. He got so weak and finally, I think, one of the managers grew angry and started beating him.”

Myungjun kept his eyes closed, his fingers gripping onto his pants. Jinwoo hesitated before enveloping Myungjun’s hand within his own, and finally Myungjun opened his eyes. He looked at Jinwoo, unshed tears shining brightly, and continued.

“He called out for me while they beat him, but I looked away. I refused to help him.”

“What could you have done?” Jinwoo asked, his voice coming out in a whisper. “They would’ve killed you, too.”

With a quick nod, Myungjun responded, “Yes, but...but then he wouldn’t be alone. He would’ve died knowing I did everything I could to save him. In-Instead, he died knowing that I turned my back on him and refused to even  _ look _ in his direction. He died knowing that I didn’t care for him enough to ease the pain he felt in his final moments. I betrayed him, Jinwoo.”

He began to cry again, and Jinwoo awkwardly leaned across the console of the car to hug his boyfriend, embracing him as tight as possible. He felt Myungjun’s body shake in his arms, and he felt a pain rush through him. Myungjun had suffered so much on that damn planet, and yet had been a source of sunshine for the entire year Jinwoo had known him. He hardly ever complained, hardly ever threw a fuss, and kept deep inside of him all of the horrors he had witnessed. He was so brave and strong, and Jinwoo combed his fingers through Myungjun’s hair in an attempt to comfort him.

Words failed him, though. How was he supposed to say anything that would lift Myungjun’s spirits? After all that Myungjun had experienced, how could words make anything better?

He knew he ought to try. Myungjun was crying, and he couldn’t just sit there and do nothing. So he murmured, “It’s alright, Jun. It isn’t your fault.”

“H-How is it not my fault?” Myungjun stammered out, pulling back in order to wipe at his eyes. “It  _ is _ my fault!”

“You didn’t ask to be made. You didn’t ask to be forced into slavery, forced to work your entire life. You wanted to survive, and you did what you had to in order to survive. That’s not your fault at all.”

“I should’ve saved him,” Myungjun whimpered.

Jinwoo kissed the side of his head. “It’s alright,” he repeated. “I...I think, if I was him, I would understand. I love you, and I would never want for you to let yourself die right by my side. I would want for you to live. I would want you to go off on a spaceship and find a new home and live happily for the rest of your life. Your friend would have wanted that for you; I know it.”

Myungjun said nothing. He hiccuped and rubbed at his nose as his crying began to quell. “I wish I was brave enough to go with him when he asked,” he muttered. “We could’ve come to Earth together. We would’ve met you and I bet he would’ve fallen in love with you, too.”

“Would he?”

“You’re very handsome, Jinwoo,” Myungjun assured him. He sniffled again and sat up in his seat, staring out of the windshield at the beach in front of them. “Do you really, truly believe that he would forgive me?” he asked.

Jinwoo followed his line of sight. He wondered if Myungjun was searching for his sunken ship. He wondered if it was still out there, still somewhere close to the shore, stuck in the sand and left to rot. He wondered if someone would ever find it, if the media would ever talk about it, if people would go through a mad rush in order to find evidence of aliens. He wondered if mankind would travel further through space, past their own galaxy. He wondered if they would find Myungjun’s planet and witness the horrid conditions of enslaved workers. He wondered if Myungjun would ever get justice for what he and his friend had gone through.

And he wondered, most of all, if Myungjun could ever learn to forgive himself for what had occurred. 

He hoped so. And he hoped he could help Myungjun to forgive himself.

“I believe he would,” he answered, offering Myungjun a small smile. “If he truly loved you, I think he would forgive you. And, from what it sounds like, he  _ did _ love you.” Jinwoo swiped his thumb across Myungjun’s cheek, collecting a teardrop as it went. “I know his soul is likely watching you, from wherever he is, and is pleased with the progress you’ve made.”

Myungjun blinked back a few more tears and asked, “Would...would his soul be able to come to Earth?”

“The afterlife stretches across all planets.”

“Isn’t your religion about reincarnation?”

“Mm, nope. That’s Dongmin and Bin and maybe Sanha. I’m Catholic.”

“Oh. Heaven and Hell.” Myungjun, with all of his documentary wisdom, understood that much, at least. He nodded his head and asked, voice still quivering, “Do you believe Three is in Heaven?”

With a second of hesitation, Jinwoo responded, “Of course he is.” Heaven was always a source of comfort to people, even to an alien who didn’t believe in any sort of religion. Myungjun had liked the  _ idea _ of Heaven. He liked knowing that there was somewhere pleasant dead people would be sent to. He would like knowing, then, that his friend was safe and happy in Heaven. And though Jinwoo was not strong in his Catholic beliefs, he added, “Good people go to Heaven and bad people go to Hell, so I know that your friend is up there and all of those who hurt him -- who hurt  _ you _ \-- aren’t in Heaven.”

“So they won’t bother him again,” Myungjun commented, fully believing what Jinwoo had told him. He never had any reason  _ not _ to believe Jinwoo. His trust was amazing, and Jinwoo felt filled with love for this alien he called his boyfriend.

“Right,” Jinwoo agreed, smiling. 

Myungjun took a deep breath and said, “I apologize. I should not be upset about this. It is in the past, and it happened often to workers. I must accept it and move on. I should no longer cry about it.”

Jinwoo shook his head. He never did like that mindset, and he liked it even less when applied to Myungjun. Myungjun had suffered, and he had yet to process all that he went through. He needed to be upset. He needed to take time to be sad, to be upset, to be angry. He needed to experience the healthy range of emotions he had been absent from. “Cry all you want,” Jinwoo told him, kissing his forehead. “You need to let it all out, okay?”

Still, Myungjun shook his head, denying himself. “I’ve cried enough, haven’t I?”

“Only you can tell me if you’ve cried enough.”

Myungjun sighed. “You’re so smart, Jinwoo. You have always been the smartest human I’ve met.” He leaned back in his seat and frowned over at the beach, as if it was personally responsible for all he had suffered through. 

“Is it bad of me to cry?” he asked. “Three never cried until they...hurt him. Three only cried when he knew his life w-was over. He kept strong, otherwise. Shouldn’t I be strong, then? I don’t deserve to cry more than he did. I deserve less.”

“Just because he wasn’t given this opportunity doesn’t mean you should not take it,” Jinwoo pointed out. “We can stay here for as long as you need. If you want to continue to cry, then cry. Let it all out. I’ll be by your side regardless of your decision.”

Myungjun pursed his lips, as if thinking through his options. Finally, he murmured, “I’m...I don’t want to cry right now.”

“Alright.”

“My eyes hurt. They feel raw, as if I have sand in them. I know it’s from the tears. I want to stop crying for now.”

Jinwoo nodded his head, and Myungjun continued.

“But...I still feel so sad. I want to cry still. Would you mind, Jinwoo, if I allowed myself to cry tonight?”

“Whenever you want.”

“And...and you’ll hold me? And you’ll keep reminding me of Heaven?”

“I’ll remind you of anything you wish to be reminded of.”

Myungjun offered him a small, shaky smile. He never did find his spaceship, it seemed, but at least he found his lost memories. At least he had come to terms with all that had happened and all he had been through. And while it would take a while for the pain to subside and his guilt to disappear, Jinwoo knew that he was happier for regaining his memories.

“Jinwoo,” Myungjun said, reaching over to grab Jinwoo’s hand. “I want to work on making a time travel machine. I’ll go back in time and find Three. I’ll bring him here. We can all live happily together. Would you mind if he lived with us? I could care for him and love him like I do you. He wouldn’t be...he wouldn’t be hurt anymore.”

Jinwoo said nothing; he didn’t need to, for Myungjun was already crying again, just as he had sworn he wouldn’t yet do.

“Time travel doesn’t...it doesn’t work, does it?” he asked sadly. “He’s gone forever, isn’t he?”

Jinwoo swallowed thickly and held Myungjun close again.

“He’s in your memories,” Jinwoo reminded him as Myungjun sniffled into his shoulder. “He’s in your thoughts. He’ll never leave you again, Jun, and you’ll never leave him again.”

He had thought he would be jealous over this man, this worker who had been Myungjun’s first love, but he was  _ sad _ . He was sad Three never got to experience a happy life with Myungjun by his side. Three had died, and Myungjun was now safe and warm in Jinwoo’s arms. In some weird, roundabout way, Three’s death had saved Myungjun. Without such a catalyst, Myungjun would’ve remained on Planet Seven, where he would be worked to death and tossed in fire.

Jinwoo didn’t know how much he believed in Heaven, but he sent a message to the stars to pass along to Three.

_ I’m sorry, _ he thought, knowing the stars could hear him,  _ but thank you. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hit me up on my twitter page [@vonseal](https://twitter.com/thevonseal) for spoilers and general nonsense.


	12. thank the stars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have finished!

Jinwoo woke to an empty bed.

He wrapped himself tighter in his bed sheets and comforter at first, confused as to why he had awoken. Nothing seemed amiss. The apartment was quiet, the lights were off, and his phone read  _ 2:37AM _ . He smacked his lips together and turned over, reaching out to feel for Myungjun.

But, nope. Empty bed.

“Myungjun?” he called, sitting upright. Every bone in his body begged him to lay down again and cave to the whims of sleep, but now that he knew his boyfriend was missing, he  _ couldn’t _ sleep. “Junnie? You in here?”

There was no response.

He rose with a slight groan and began to check the usual places. Myungjun was not in the bathroom, nor was he drinking milk in the kitchen or watching some dumb documentary in the living room. In fact, he didn’t seem to be anywhere in the apartment, and Jinwoo found concern overtaking him. He threw on his coat and a pair of boots and hurried on outside, rushing down a flight of stairs in order to reach the ground floor.

“Myungjun!” he called, not quite caring who he woke up with his yelling. He’d rather have a few angry neighbors than have no Myungjun.

Fortunately for him, Myungjun did finally respond. A meek, “Over here!” was thrown back at him, and he cautiously followed the voice.

He found Myungjun laying in the snow, a heavy coat covering his body and a warm hat atop his head. 

There was snow caught in his eyelashes and snow littered about his body, testament to the length of time he had been in such a position.

Jinwoo shivered and squatted next to Myungjun. “What’re you doing?” he asked.

Myungjun smiled up at Jinwoo and then gestured to the sky. “I wanted to make snow angels.”

Jinwoo had taught him all about snow angels during his first year on Earth. He returned the smile and murmured, “It’s cold.”

“It sure is.”

“Let’s get you inside, then.”

“It’s really neat to look at the snow from down here!” Myungjun exclaimed, and without further ado, he tugged Jinwoo down beside him. Jinwoo landed in the snow with a light  _ oof _ , and he instantly felt his pajama pants becoming wet.

He sighed loudly and said, “I’ll have to change.”

“We can take a warm bath before we change! It’ll be fun.”

“Myungjun, it’s in the middle of the night. We ought to be asleep. I’m so tired.”

But Myungjun didn’t appear to be listening to him. He merely grinned and turned his attention back up to the sky. “There’s so many snowflakes,” he mentioned. “I tried to count them at first, but I’ve lost count. I watched a documentary about snow, and it doesn’t snow everywhere. In fact, it’s snowing here right now but in some places, it’s not snowing. Where would it not be snowing right now?”

“I don’t know. Africa, maybe? I don’t keep up with the weather in other places.”

“You should! I think it’s important to know.”

“Well…” Jinwoo muttered. He plopped backwards; he was wet as it was, so what did it matter if he found himself buried in the snow. “Aren’t you cold?”

“Oh, I’m freezing,” Myungjun confirmed, and he shivered for added effect. “But I had to come out here and think. You know, it’s not snowing on Planet Seven.”

Jinwoo glanced over at his boyfriend, who continued to stare up at the snow, at the sky, at the planets and galaxies beyond their world.

“It never snowed on Planet Seven. I guess I’ve told you that before. It was always so hot. It was always so dry. It was always so brown. And I know I keep talking about how grateful I am to have come here, but I’m...I’m so grateful, Jinwoo.” Myungjun rolled over, pressing up against Jinwoo, and whispered, “I’m so sad the others can’t get away and find their own Jinwoo.”

Jinwoo didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t imagine how Myungjun must feel, knowing that many of those just like him were stuck on their planet, suffering a fate worse than death, working nonstop until they were deemed useless and worthless. Myungjun had been the only lucky one to escape, to find a new life. Everyone else he knew was stuck up there, somewhere in the sky.

With a kiss to Myungjun’s cheek, Jinwoo responded, “One day, perhaps, we’ll be able to go back up there. Maybe the Korean government can free them all somehow. We’ll...we’ll fix it.”

Myungjun stared at Jinwoo, as if contemplating his words, then said, “I’ve looked into it. I don’t believe Earth currently has the capabilities for such difficult space travel. Your technology is behind what ours is. In this lifetime, according to the documentaries I’ve seen, we’ll never travel past a few planets in  _ your _ solar system.” He looked away again, sudden pain filling his eyes. “I ought to rely on other planets within  _ our _ solar system. They have rules against slavery, you know.”

“Then why did they never enact those rules for Planet Seven?”

“The rules are only for sentient beings. Humans. We were made; we’re not humans.”

“Bullshit.” Jinwoo sat up. He pulled Myungjun up with him and brushed snow off his body. “You’re just as human as I am. You have your own thoughts, Jun. You’re a sentient being.”

“But I was made in a factory.”

“That’s no different from how some babies here are born. Some are born in a test tube, some are born with donated sperm; they’re no less human than you are.” He stood and offered Myungjun his hand. “I’m human. You’re human. All of your fellow aliens on that damn planet are human, and they all deserve a good life.”

Myungjun regarded him curiously. The pain was still evident in his gaze. “But I don’t know what to do.”

“We’ll think about it. Maybe once I graduate, I’ll go to space. I’ll go and liberate your planet. And if not, someone else will. Trust me, Myungjun; everything works out in the end.”

After a few seconds of silence, Myungjun took the offered hand and stood up. He smiled hesitatingly. “I’m cold,” he admitted, completely bypassing their initial conversation.

Jinwoo didn’t mind. Sometimes, it became too difficult for Myungjun to speak about. He had suffered so much, and he still suffered. His pain would never depart; he could only learn to make it manageable.

As they walked back to the apartments together, Jinwoo wondered if he could do anything to help Myungjun manage such a tragic past. It was beyond his realm of expertise, but he thought of the acquaintances he had who had gone to school to become therapists. It would be tricky to explain Myungjun’s extraterrestrial origins, but weren’t therapists sworn to secrecy? 

Unless, of course, they tossed him into a mental hospital. Or, worse, believed him and pawned him off to the government. Did Korea have its own Area 51? Jinwoo would rather not find out.

He glanced at Myungjun, at his poor, innocent boyfriend, and sighed.

Well, he could always double major.

*:;,．★ ～☆・:.,;* *:;,．★ ～☆・:.,;* *:;,．★ ～☆・:.,;* *:;,．★ ～☆・:.,;*

“For the record, I think you’re an idiot.”

Jinwoo rolled his eyes for what felt like the tenth time in two minutes. He had heard such a variety of things from Dongmin’s mouth;  _ idiot _ was probably one of the better ones.

“Perhaps.”

“I mean, a double major?”

“I’m  _ minoring _ in psychiatry. It’s different. Besides, it’s not as if I’ll be able to find a legitimate therapist in Korea who will be able to sit down and talk to Myungjun about his alien origins. Korea is already terrible with mental health, I doubt they’ll be able to handle an alien.”

Dongmin gave a small hum and then shrugged his shoulders. He glanced across the cafe, to where Myungjun was charming the hell out of one of his female customers. She blushed and giggled and flipped her hair. Jinwoo had gotten past the point of jealousy and had chosen to accept Myungjun’s brilliant sales techniques for what they were. 

“Is he suffering that much?” Dongmin asked.

Jinwoo was unsure how to answer such a question. From the outside, Myungjun seemed perfectly fine and normal. He still cooed over things he found  _ cute _ (the newest being the new vacuum cleaner Jinwoo’s mother had bought them), and he still found fascination in the world around him. He was perky and happy and completely positive. He kissed Jinwoo often and he begged for sex just as often. 

And, yet, Jinwoo would see him sometimes falter. He would remember what he had escaped from, and he would remember the pain he had gone through, and he would remember the guilt over losing his friend. Sometimes he would cry, and sometimes he would merely sit in bed and gaze up at the ceiling. On the worst of days, he would retreat to the beach and wade in the water, attempting to find his spaceship. He somehow believed that if he found the spaceship, he could fix it and fly away and liberate his old planet by himself.

It was difficult to deal with sometimes. Jinwoo wasn’t quite sure what to do when Myungjun got in one of his moods. He thought, though, that studying psychiatry would help him gain some insight into Myungjun's mood swings.

Regardless, he remained close by. He offered Myungjun as much comfort as possible. He always apologized, but Myungjun claimed he was perfectly fine. In fact, Myungjun claimed to enjoy the proximity. “It reminds me of how much you love me,” he would tease, a large smile on his face as he leaned into whatever embrace Jinwoo was initiating.

Dongmin was still awaiting an answer to his question. Jinwoo could not let him down. “He seems normal most of the time,” he answered honestly. “On occasion, he has time to think and he remembers what he escaped from. He tries not to let it show, but…”

He trailed off, and Dongmin nodded his head, seeming to understand Jinwoo’s predicament. 

“Well,” Dongmin murmured, “he always seems happy enough here.”

“I can’t tell if he’s putting on a show or if he’s truly happy sometimes,” Jinwoo admitted. “I mean, he  _ seems _ genuine, but he’s used to hiding his emotions. Perhaps he’s not fine. Perhaps he’s hiding everything from me.”

“Why don’t you talk to him? Tell him that emotions are not a weakness. Tell him it’s okay if he needs to take time off, or if he needs to cry.”

“I  _ do _ .” Jinwoo sighed. “I just...it’s difficult, you know? I don’t know how to traverse this issue. I’ve never had an alien boyfriend with a terribly abusive and tragic past. It’s definitely not the norm for me.”

Dongmin agreed with a small hum. They both stared over at Myungjun, who had finished serving his customers and waved at Jinwoo with a bright smile. When Jinwoo waved back, Myungjun scurried around the counter and plopped on the seat next to his boyfriend.

“How is the most handsome man in the entire universe doing?” he teased, kissing Jinwoo’s cheek. Jinwoo shot a smug glance toward Dongmin, who merely glowered, still unused with being the  _ second _ -most handsome person.

“I’m doing well,” Jinwoo replied, and he returned Myungjun’s kiss. “How are you, babe?”

Myungjun, still beaming, responded, “Great! The lady I finished serving gave me a lot of money for a tip. I put it all in the tip jar.”

Dongmin snorted and said, “I have no idea why we even have a tip jar. Myungjun’s my only employee, aside from Bin, and Bin helps out with money passed under the table.”

“What does that mean?” Myungjun asked, rather intrigued. “You pay him under the table?”

“It’s a saying,” Jinwoo answered, and he patted Myungjun’s back. “It means what Dongmin is doing is not necessarily legal.”

“Dongmin is breaking the law?”

“I’m  _ not! _ Don’t tell him stuff like that!” Dongmin huffed and shook his head frantically, trying to dispel Myungjun’s fears. “He’s my boyfriend and he’s allowed to help out from time to time. I just take him out to dinner when he does. There’s nothing illegal with my boyfriend voluntarily assisting in a few orders here and there.”

Myungjun seemed unsure what to believe. He looked back and forth between Dongmin and Jinwoo before finally declaring, “I’ll watch a documentary on that when we get home!”

“If you can find one,” Jinwoo mumbled, and then louder he asked, “Mind if we go home now, Dongmin? I’m sure it’s close enough to closing time.”

“It’s mid-afternoon.”

“Then why don’t you call Bin? You can pay him under the table.”

He was joking, mostly, but he  _ did _ want to leave a bit early and talk to Myungjun about  _ feelings _ and  _ therapy _ . He still wasn’t sure how to go about such a heavy topic, but before he even had the chance to develop a plan, Myungjun interrupted him.

“I’d like to stay and work, though,” he countered. “It’s a good day!”

Jinwoo cleared his throat. So much for his half-assed plan. “Are you sure you’re feeling up to it, Junnie?”

Myungjun nodded his head, and then added for good measure, “I’m not weak.”

Jinwoo blinked. Even Dongmin looked a bit surprised.

As if sensing the confusion, Myungjun explained, “I know you’ve been worried about me, Jinwoo. I know my past kinda scares you. I’m sorry if I’ve been causing you concern. And I know I’ve been melancholy sometimes, and I keep rushing into the ocean, which is foolish of me. I know I won’t find the ship. I know I can’t go back to Planet Seven. I just sometimes...I sometimes feel regretful. I feel guilty.”

Jinwoo glanced at Dongmin, who seemed to easily take the hint. Thank goodness it wasn’t Bin with him; Bin would sit back and listen to the entire conversation. Dongmin, though, stood from his seat and smiled kindly at Myungjun. “You take a short break,” he suggested. “I’ll go watch for customers.”

Myungjun allowed him to leave, and once they were alone, he murmured, “Dongmin is very nice.”

“He is,” Jinwoo agreed.

“Do you think...do you think Dongmin has something in his past that bothers him? Do you think he’s...regretful?”

Jinwoo had just barely started psychology classes. He had no idea on how to enact a sudden therapy session. He struggled with Myungjun’s horrible past, and with no way to relate, he felt like he was up the creek without a paddle.

But he knew he needed to try. He had to  _ attempt _ to help his boyfriend the best he could. And if he failed, he would read more books and talk to more people and maybe even double-major. Anything in order to help Myungjun.

“We all have things in our past that we feel some regret over,” he said, choosing his words carefully. “However, things were really bad for you in a way that Dongmin and I have never experienced.”

Myungjun’s eyebrows furrowed together. “Do you think I’m crazy?”

“What? No! No, of course not! What you’re feeling is perfectly normal, and perfectly acceptable.” He gnawed at his bottom lip, trying to figure out the best way to go about such a deep conversation.

But Myungjun broke in and waved a hand about. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Huh?”

“I think I can handle it myself.”

“But it’s—”

“I mean, you’re always there for me,” Myungjun continued. “You hold me when I cry, and you never judge me for crying. You go down to the beach with me and look for my ship, even though it’s a fruitless endeavor. You allow me to talk and talk. You’re never jealous of my feelings, nor are you dismissive. I...I always feel better when I get down, because I know I always have you.”

His words were sweet. They were so sweet, and Jinwoo felt like he was melting into a puddle of goo. “I’ll always be there,” he assured.

Myungjun grinned. “I know you will be.”

“And...I’m working on some classes that will allow me to offer some possible techniques for your bad thoughts. I know you’ll never be able to escape your past, but I’ll take classes to help you cope with what happened.”

“Oh. I didn’t know that was a thing.” Myungjun looked rather impressed. “Earth sure does have everything. It has classes to help with  _ emotions! _ I was just told not to feel emotions on my planet.” He giggled a bit, then added, “Except, I think them discouraging emotions made them even stronger. That sure backfired, didn’t it?”

Jinwoo couldn’t help but smile. “It did.”

Myungjun watched him for a few seconds, then suddenly stood from his seat and hollered, “Jinwoo and I are going to take a short walk, Dongmin!”

“You don’t need to yell,” Dongmin replied, looking over the counter at them. “I can hear you just fine.”

But Myungjun didn’t acknowledge the response. He instead dragged Jinwoo outside, taking a deep breath once they were away from the air-conditioned room.

Outside, spring was imminent. The flowers were beginning to bud, rain was constantly falling, and birds were singing in the skies. Jinwoo only wore a light jacket, which he quickly passed to Myungjun when his boyfriend gave a small shiver.

“Even this is too cold for you, huh?” he teased.

“I grew up in a completely different climate. I’m always cold.” Myungjun accepted the jacket, though he still leaned close to Jinwoo as they walked down the street, side-stepping people who were hurrying along.

“I love you,” Myungjun blurted out.

Jinwoo gave a start, but smiled. “Do you?”

“You have to say it back.”

“I don’t think I  _ have _ to.”

Myungjun whined and tugged at his arm. “Say it back!”

With a giggle, Jinwoo replied, “Then I love you, too, Myungjun.”

Myungjun, satisfied with the answer, grinned and hooked his arm around Jinwoo’s arm. They waddled on down the street together, truly an odd pair, both with bright smiles and rosy cheeks. Jinwoo knew that the journey ahead would be rough, but he would be with Myungjun every step of the way.

“Myungjun,” he murmured.

“Hm?”

“I think the stars sent you to me.”

“What?”

“Before you came, I yelled at them. I wanted someone by my side. I wanted my life to be less lonely. I think...I think you’re the angel they sent to love me forever and ever.”

Myungjun gave a small hum of appreciation, and he murmured, “Then I think the stars granted both of our wishes.”

And there, in the midst of such a crowd of people nearby, Jinwoo couldn’t help but kiss his sweet, wonderful, perfect alien.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so ends milky way! i may or may not add some oneshots in this series from time to time, but considering it's been around for three years, it might finally be time to lay alien mj to rest. i want to thank everyone so much for this journey! look out for my other fics!
> 
> hit me up on my twitter page [@vonseal](https://twitter.com/thevonseal) for spoilers and general nonsense.


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